Harry Potter and the Siren's Song
by jords
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated than just growing older. Chp 20 is up!
1. Siren's Song Chapter 1

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, adult situations

Spoilers: _SS, CoS, PoA and GoF_

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. Many thanks to my beta readers, Kestral and Elliot, who keep me honest.

* * *

The house on Privet Drive looked the same as it ever did at three in the morning. Outside not a single wayward weed spilled from the brightly colored flower beds, and inside everything was as neat and tidy as a display in a museum. The windows were dark, and the shades neatly drawn...in every room but one.

This room was faintly illuminated by a flashlight that was currently being used under heavy covers. Its owner's head, disheveled and hot, emerged from under the blankets and set the book he was reading on the floor. _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ hardly seemed like normal bed time reading material for a teenaged boy, but then the reader was not a normal teenager. His name was Harry Potter and he was a wizard.

It was not only the fact that Harry was a wizard that kept him from being like most teenage boys. While this fact in itself was enough to set him apart, it coupled with the fact that Harry dreaded the summer holidays more than any other time of year. In addition to this startling reality came the fact that he longed for nothing more than to be back at school, surrounded by others like himself.

In all these ways, and so many more, Harry was a most unusual 14 year old. As he read, his pale arm hung over the pillow, the light reflecting off the scar that crossed his arm. This scar was an unusually vivid red, while another scar, the one that was famous throughout the wizarding world, glowed a faint pearly silver.

Both scars spoke of why Harry was the most famous young wizard in the secret world of sorcerers in Europe. His triumph over the man who had issued his scars was known throughout the world - at least, the story of how he gained the scar on his forehead. The other story was known only to a select few.

Harry had only been a year old the night he received his first scar. The most feared wizard in the world, Lord Voldemort, had attacked and killed his parents. Shortly after killing his mother, Voldemort had turned his wand on Harry - only to have the spell bounce back off the baby and rebound onto Voldemort. For 13 years Voldermort had been in hiding, reduced to a shade. But last year he had arranged to have Harry kidnapped and brought to him by way of a Portkey, a magical transporting device. After his servant Wormtail had sliced open Harry's arm and drained some of his blood into a magical solution, Voldermort had been able to return to his body. Once again, he had tried to kill Harry - and once again Harry had managed to escape.

It was for this reason that Harry was up so late, studying the massive book. His eyes were heavy with sleep, but he needed to finish this chapter before turning in. Harry felt that he should be able to quote the book the way Hermione could. The more he knew about Voldermort's considerable strengths and his few weaknesses, the better.

As Harry finished the chapter, he looked over at the empty cage on the dresser. Hedwig, his snowy owl, had been out for several nights now. He wasn't worried, as she'd been gone for longer before, but all the same, he wished she would come home. He felt he needed an ally, someone he could talk to in this house. To say that the Dursleys, his Muggle family, weren't keen on making conversation with him was a masterful work of British understatement.

Harry had never been welcome at Number Four Privet Drive. For the first eleven years of his life, the Dursleys had spent as much time as possible making sure that Harry was utterly miserable. He had been forced to sleep in a cupboard beneath their stairs, wear his much larger cousin Dudley's hand-me-downs, and done enough chores for three boys.

All of that had changed when Harry turned eleven. On his birthday that year, he had not only found out that he was a wizard but also of the truth behind his parents' deaths, and Voldemort. (They had not been killed in a car accident, as his aunt had insisted for years.) He'd also been given the wonderful news that he didn't have to stay with the Dursleys anymore. He would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the next seven years and would only have to deal with his aunt, uncle and cousin during the summer holidays.

While his last four years at Hogwarts had been both fascinating and fun, his last year there had ended so dismally that even now, weeks later, he could barely stand to think about it. His name had been entered illegally into the highly dangerous Tri-Wizard tournament, a magical competition between the three largest schools of wizardry in Europe. Once entered, he had been forced to complete the tournament, which meant that among other things he'd been forced to get past a dragon, learned to breathe underwater for an hour and survived a maze full of dangerous magical creatures. At the end of the maze, he and Cedric Diggory, the other Hogwarts' champion, had reached the finish line at roughly the same time. After a great deal of debate, they had agreed to tie for the Tri-Wizard cup, and had picked the heavy trophy up as one. The cup had then transported them to Voldemort's side, which had resulted in Cedric being killed and Harry's blood reviving the dark wizard. Bad enough the guilt he felt over helping bring Voldemort back to power, but it was nothing to the guilt he felt over Cedric's death. While Harry knew that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, he had suffered nightmares about that night nearly every night since.

Shutting _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, Harry got out of bed to peer out the window in the hopes of seeing his owl soaring towards him. Instead he saw a cloudless night sky, a bright golden moon, and the plants outside gently blowing in the light wind. He sighed and crouched down on the floor to return the large book to its hiding place: beneath a loose floorboard under the bed.

Straightening up, Harry caught sight of himself in the mirror. His bright green eyes peered back at him from behind glasses that needed cleaning, while his dark hair stuck up everywhere, just as his father's had. Nearly fifteen years old, his body had finally begun to show some signs of maturity. His aunt had been forced to buy him some brand new jeans for the very first time that summer, a fact she groused about morning, noon and night. At just under six feet in height, he was a good five inches taller than his portly cousin. Despite the diet that Dudley and the hapless rest of the family was on, his shoulders and chest had gotten broader, and if he wasn't mistaken, those were definitely pectoral muscles he saw. Just that morning, his uncle Vernon had roared a new complaint across the breakfast table. Instead of the usual "Cut your hair!", today Harry had been rewarded with "Don't you dare come to the table without shaving again, boy!" Harry had gaped at him, then muttered something about not knowing how. Uncle Vernon had ignored him as usual. Aunt Petunia had pursed her lips, but that night he had found a razor and shaving cream on his bed. No doubt the Dursleys had hoped that by insisting he shave yet neglecting to show him how, he would manage to slice an artery and bleed to death.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, and making it stand up worse then ever. Tomorrow was his 15th birthday. Normally, he would have heard something about going to visit his friend Ron for the rest of the summer by now. However, with Voldemort returned to full strength, Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, had insisted he return to Privet Drive. For all the fact that Harry's family treated him as if he'd just ax-murdered the queen, it was here that Harry was safest from Voldemort. The only place as safe as this for him was Hogwarts itself, and no student ever stayed there during the summer holiday.

The thought that had been buzzing through his mind the whole summer returned, and Harry frowned. _Why_ was it that no student ever stayed at Hogwarts for the summer? _Why _did Dumbledore insist on Harry's returning to the Muggle world, knowing how miserable he would be? Dumbledore was the only wizard that Voldemort had ever feared - as such, Voldemort was hardly likely to attack Hogwarts. He shook his head. No amount of wondering would answer that question, and somehow he didn't feel like questioning the headmaster on it. Albus Dumbledore was Harry's idol and he hated for Dumbledore to get the idea that he was questioning the headmaster's judgement.

A soft whoosh of feathers caught his ear and he practically raced to the window. To his delight, he saw not only Hedwig but _five_ other birds flying beside her. Four owls: a tiny Scops owl that he recognized as his friend Ron's, a large brown barn owl he thought he knew to be from Hogwarts, a grey owl, and a tawny reddish one. The fifth bird was, if he wasn't mistaken, Fawkes - Dumbledore's phoenix.

Eyes wide now, all traces of sleepiness gone, he leapt aside as the birds flew in through the window and settled on the bed. He sat down, stroking Hedwig's head and reached for the package tied to her leg. Removing it, he carried her to her cage where she hooted a soft thanks and began to drink her water.

Ron's owl was next - not only because he was dying to see if Ron's letter held an invitation to visit his family, but because Pigwidgeon was making so much racket Harry was more than a little afraid he would wake the whole house. "Shut _up,_ Pig." he hissed, removing the letter and setting it down on top of the bed as well. Shoving an owl treat in the bird's mouth, he effectively silenced the tiny creature.

Next, he reached for Fawkes. The phoenix had a bundle tied to his leg that looked far too heavy for him to carry. However, Harry had enough experience with Dumbledore's phoenix to know that appearances were deceiving - Fawkes had once flown with not only him, but Ron, Ron's sister Ginny, and their nutter of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher holding onto his tail feathers. "Hullo Fawkes," Harry said, stroking the strangely warm feathers affectionately. He removed the package and the bird headed back out the empty window. "I guess Professor Dumbledore didn't really want an answer," Harry said. After removing a letter from the brown school owl, the bird followed after Fawkes out the open window.

After removing the letters from the last two owls - the grey carried a letter with what looked like Hermione's handwriting, and the red bird had one that was unmistakably from Sirius - the front was marked with a paw print - he sat down and started on Ron's letter first.

__

Harry -

I know you're going mad there with the Muggles, but Dumbledore won't budge on you coming to visit. Mum keeps saying we have to trust him to do what's best for you, but she seems as disappointed as the rest of us. George and Fred sent you the red envelope - don't worry it's not a Howler. It's their newest gag - Howling Fiends. Acts just like a howler, but shrieks your secrets for the world to hear. If you don't open it straight away, it explodes. It's for your lump of a cousin - they thought it was the best birthday gift they could send you. Mum's not too keen on their working on more joke stuff, but at least it keeps them out of her hair. I have your gift but I couldn't send it with Pig - you'll just have to wait until next time we see each other. Errol's so feeble at this point we can't even use him to send letters, let alone anything heavy.

It's going to be weird not seeing you until September 1st. Let me know when you're going to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies - Dumbledore can't say no to that, can he? Maybe he'll sent Hagrid to take you again - as soon as he gets back from wherever he is. His letters always say the same thing: he's away on Hogwarts business, he can't tell us what he's doing, and that he'll see us at school. Do you think Dumbledore sent him and Madam Maxine to talk to the giants? Hermione's convinced that's what he's up to.

Speaking of Hermione, did you hear? She's going to be a prefect. Not exactly a surprise, but the way she's carrying on about not being worthy, you'd think they'd just named her for sainthood. Besides, who'd she think they would name - Lavender or Parvati?

Harry grinned. Hermione had always wanted to be a prefect - and no doubt this was doing nothing short of killing Ron. As the cleverest witch in their year, it really wasn't a surprise that Hermione had nabbed the job. Ron, of course, would not be too pleased - he'd never failed to point out Hermione's flaws as part of what he seemed to view as his own personal mission to keep her humble.

He read on.

__

Haven't heard yet about who the other prefect from Gryffindor is, but I'm betting it's you, mate. Let me know as soon as you hear! Between you and Hermione I'll really have to watch my step this year! HA!

Try and come to London and keep me posted. Tell Snuffles Hi for me.

Ron

Harry frowned slightly. A prefect? Him? That could make life a little less fun. Not to mention how it would place yet another strain on his and Ron's friendship. They had survived last year's blow up - when Ron's jealousy over Harry's fame had finally come to a boiling point - but unless Ron was named prefect this year he had no chance of being named Head Boy.

With five older brothers, two of whom had been Head Boy, and another who had been Quiditch Captain, Ron always felt he had a lot to live up to. Add to that being best friends with the famous Harry Potter, and the brilliant Hermione Granger, and it was little wonder he had a tendency to be gloomy at times. Harry shook his head - he would deal with this latest problem if and when he actually was named prefect.

He opened the letter from Hogwarts next. Three pieces of parchment fell into his lap. He picked up the first one and read:

__

Dear Mr. Potter:

Please note that the new school year will begin on September 1st. The Hogwarts' Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. A list of books for next year is enclosed.

You are to be congratulated on being selected to serve as prefect this year. Your first meeting with the other prefects, as well as our new Head Boy and Girl, will be directly after Start of Year Feast. I know you will fulfill your duty as prefect with courage and dedication - both of your parents were excellent prefects, which led to them being named Head Boy and Head Girl. James and Lily would be exceedingly proud of your accomplishments.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

His mouth hanging open, he read the letter again. And again. It was official - he was a prefect! He wanted to tell someone, but the Dursleys weren't likely to respond well - either to his news or his waking them at 3:30 in the morning to share it. Instead, he closed his eyes and pictured himself as a prefect. He couldn't wait to give Draco Malfoy, his enemy from their very first day at Hogwarts, a few detentions.

He glanced at the two pieces of paper in his lap. One was his booklist, which he slid in the molding around his mirror to make sure he didn't lose it. The other appeared to be a list of the other new prefects and the head boy and girl. Sure enough, Hermione was on the list. So, he realized, puncturing his fantasies, was Draco Malfoy. The new head boy and girl came as something of a shock, however. Roger Davies, captain of the Ravenclaw team - no real surprise there. He strongly suspected it would have been Cedric, but in light of Cedric's death, there really wasn't any choice besides Roger. But beside Head Girl read the name Angelina Johnson - Angelina, his fellow Gryffindor, and member of the Quidditch team! Somehow he'd never pictured her as Head Girl. But then, he reasoned with himself, Angelina was a very good student, and had been a prefect for two years. She just didn't act the part as Percy Weasley had.

Vowing never to get as caught up in being prefect as Ron's annoying older brother Percy had, Harry started on the letter from Hermione.

__

Dear Harry -

Congratulations on being named prefect too! I was so surprised! Not about you of course - you are a Triwizard Champion after all - (Harry squirmed as he read that bit) _but I just didn't think I would get chosen. Parvati Patil also has really good grades and she gets along really well with everyone in the House, so I had thought they would go with her first. I didn't say anything to Ron, as I thought you should be the one to tell him._

Ron said Dumbledore hasn't changed his mind on you leaving your aunt and uncle to come stay with his family. I'm really sorry Harry - I know how much you love staying with the Weasleys. I even wrote to suggest that you stay here with my family when we return from Bulgaria, but Dumbledore said he had another plan in mind. You'll have to let me know what it is. Ron said maybe you would get to come to Diagon Alley and pick up your supplies - if so, let me know when and we'll meet up with you there.

Harry frowned. Bulgaria? He hadn't really managed to piece together in his head that Hermione and Victor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Cup, were an item. Obviously her parents didn't mind, if they were going with her to Bulgaria.

__

Before I forget, Happy early Birthday!! I hope you didn't mind me sending the package with Hedwig and the letter with my new owl Artemis, but I wanted Artemis to get some practice at delivering post before we left for Bulgaria. That way I won't have to worry about being out of contact with you and Ron while I'm gone. I want to know about anything and everything that happens while I'm away.

By the way, did you tell your aunt and uncle anything at all about what happened last term? I know you dislike them, but shouldn't they know what's happened to you? Especially now that Voldemort is back?

Take care of yourself.

Love from

Hermione

Harry just sat and stared at her letter for a while. Hermione had called Voldemort by his name. Not by "you know who" but by his actual name. Harry had only ever known of three other people to do so - Albus Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge and Remus Lupin. He was caught between being impressed and shocked. And _why_ did she think he should tell his aunt and uncle anything about last term? Had she gone temporarily mad?

Setting down the letter, he reached for the package Hermione had sent. Opening it up, he saw a small leather-bound book. It was unmistakably a diary. He opened the cover and saw Hermione's neat writing on the first page.

__

Harry - I know you're still processing and dealing with what happened with Cedric and Voldemort. You told me about Dumbledore's pensieve and I thought maybe one of those would help. I tried to get one for you, but it turns out they only sell them to qualified wizards and witches. I explained what I wanted to the owner of Flourish and Blots and he developed this for you - it's a diary that only you can read - the rest of us just see blank pages. If you can't talk to your aunt and uncle, at least use this. I promise it will help. Draw in it, write in it, it's yours to use however you like.

Love from

Hermione

Leave it to Hermione to get him the perfect gift. He _had_ longed for a pensieve, a way to drain off excess memories until he was ready to deal with them. A diary was the next best thing. Besides, if no one could ever read it but himself, it was actually safer then using a pensieve. What better way to conceal his Marauder's map than in a book that appeared to be full of blank pages?

He slid his booklist into the diary and set it carefully under the bed alongside _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. Deciding to save Sirius's letter for last, he opened the package from Professor Dumbledore. Inside were two small velvet bags, and a letter. The letter appeared to be sealed with some sort of dark sparkling wax which glinted in the light from his flashlight. He pulled it open and read:

__

Dear Harry:

No doubt by now you've heard from Mr. Weasley that I have respectfully declined his family's kind invitation to have you as their guest for the remainder of the summer. Likewise, I thought it best to do the same regarding your invitation from the charming Miss Granger. However, your godfather reminds me on a near daily basis that it is nothing short of torture for me to keep you with your mother's family.

I have decided that rather than continue to listen to accusations of heartlessness from Sirius, that you should return early to Hogwarts and spend the remainder of your summer here. You will live in the Gryffindor tower as you usually do, take your meals in the Great Hall as always and use the library as you please - your O.W.L.s are this year and I know you will want to take advantage of this unusual opportunity to prepare yourself.

In addition, I have arranged for you to spend two hours a day studying the Dark Arts and their history with Professor Moody and our new History of Magic teacher, Professor Velange. I have little doubt that you will be facing Voldermort again, and want you to be prepared. That means that not only will you be thoroughly versed in defense against the Dark Arts, but will know how they are used. The study of the Dark Arts is strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic, and I cannot stress to you enough the seriousness of the challenge that lies before you. Professor Velange will be working with you on both the history of the Dark Arts and those that have used them. You will also study the society of those who embrace them in order for you to recognize a potential Dark wizard more easily.

Sirius will be arriving to pick you up Tuesday at 8 am, along with Remus Lupin. They will see to it that you arrive safely at Hogwarts. In addition, Sirius will check in on you regularly here at the castle.

I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I also extend my most sincere congratulations on your becoming prefect - it is an honor you have surely well earned.

Albus Dumbledore

PS - the smaller black bag is for Sirius and Lupin to use to bring you to Hogwarts. The other is a gift for you - happy birthday.

Harry could hardly believe it. He was going to spend the rest of the summer at _Hogwarts_? He would be studying the Dark Arts? He would be leaving Privet Drive tomorrow?? He pulled open his birthday gift and felt as though he was suddenly twelve feet tall. A small dagger, whose hilt was covered in gleaming gems, spilled out onto his hand. It was, he realized, a miniature replica of the sword he had pulled from the Sorting Hat his second year to defeat Voldemort - the sword of Godric Gryffindor, founder of Harry's house, and the item that had kept his from losing all hope when he had been sure that he would die. Albus Dumbledore knew how much this meant to him. He heard Hagrid's voice in his head, repeating what he had said so often. _"Great man, Dumbledore. So long as we've got him, I'm not too worried."_

He placed the dagger and the letter reverently in his trunk, and reached for the last letter. The red owl accepted a treat and then it too flew out the window.

__

Dear Harry -

Hopefully by now you have your letter from Dumbledore regarding where you will be spending the rest of your summer. All I can tell you is that this is the first time in over five hundred years that a student has returned to school early, so treat it as the honor that it is.

Dumbledore has explained to me about your curriculum for the summer and I think it will be the best way for you to be able to put the events of last year behind you. Cedric's death was not your fault. Voldemort's rising was not your fault. By getting you ready to face whatever challenge he throws your way next, we hope you will be able to make peace with these truths.

I will see you at 8 in the morning. It would be best if you sent Hedwig to Hogwarts ahead of you - one less thing to worry about in the morning. I know you will want to let Ron and Hermione know where you will be, but I would prefer that you wait on this until we get you safely there.

Sirius

This letter was also placed carefully in his trunk. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had felt this excited. He was leaving the Dursleys - he would be with Sirius - and he would be preparing for whatever Voldemort came up with next. The thought of training one on one with Mad-Eye Moody - the _real_ Mad-Eye Moody - was a bit intimidating. And why did they have a new History of Magic teacher? Surely nothing could have happened to Professor Binns - he was already dead.

Yawning openly now, despite his excitement, Harry helped put Pig and Artemis into the cage with Hedwig. She looked less than pleased about this. "It's only for one night." Harry promised. "They'll be leaving first thing in the morning." Then he switched off the flashlight and pulled the covers over his head.

For the first time in many weeks, Harry's dreams didn't center around watching a boy with grey eyes die, or of watching as his own blood revived a mass murderer. He didn't dream of dementors or of his parent's last moments. His dreams were filled with the thoughts of the castle he loved, of the pictures who spoke, and the stairs that moved. Peaceful, restful dreams - dreams he had not enjoyed in months. A smile crossed his face as he slept. The Boy Who Lived was, for one night, also the Boy who was Living - not merely existing.


	2. Siren's Song Chapter 2

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, adult situations

Spoilers: _SS, CoS, PoA and GoF_

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. Many thanks to my beta readers, Kestral and Elliot, who keep me honest.

* * *

Harry awoke early the next morning. Despite the fact that he had only had a few hours sleep, he felt more rested then he had in some time. Heading down the stairs for breakfast, he smiled at the thought that this would be his last breakfast on Privet Drive until next summer.

"Wipe that smirk off your face!" his uncle Vernon snapped as soon as he set foot in the kitchen. Dudley sat in his chair, slightly less bulbous then last year. Harry thought the number of piggy chins hanging down his neck appeared to have been reduced by one. It appeared that Dudley's diet was actually beginning to work.

"What have I told you about coming to the table with that dirty scruff on your face?" his uncle continued. "I will not tolerate slovenliness under my roof, young man. Now go-"

"I told you, I don't know how to shave." Harry said cooly. "And if you think I'm just going to start in on my face with a razor and no lessons, you're wrong. Besides, I won't be under your roof much longer. Sirius is coming to pick me up in the morning. You know - my godfather."

That had shut Uncle Vernon up. "He'she's coming - here?" His uncle's face had gone as pale as the cream in his hand. "When?" he asked, in a desperate attempt to sound as though he was in control.

"Tomorrow at eight. He and one of my parents' friends, who was a professor of mine at school. Well, he was my professor until everyone found out that he was a werewolf." Harry was quite enjoying himself now. His aunt uttered the smallest of squeaks before dashing from the room, and Dudley seemed unable to speak.

"A were-were-werewolf?" His uncle was slopping cream all over the table as his hand shook uncontrollably.

"Professor Lupin is only a werewolf a few days a month. Oh, that's right - last night was a full moon, wasn't it?" Unconcernedly, Harry poured himself some juice and reached for the toast. "I'd advise you not too upset him - never know what might set him off this time of the month."

Dudley scampered from the room after his mother, making it the first time in history that Harry could remember his cousin ever not finishing a meal. His uncle, he noticed, had managed to set the cream pitcher down and was glaring at him while trying to remain calm.

"Very well, boy - you've had your fun. A werewolf and a murderer coming here? For you?"

"Yes, indeed." Harry said brightly.

"I shall hand you over with pleasure." His uncle said, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe you can ask the werewolf for shaving tips." Chortling at his own sense of humor, his uncle snapped up his paper again and continued to read.

The day passed without incident. Harry finished up his chores (just because he was setting a murderer and a werewolf on the household didn't mean he could get out of weeding the garden), packed his trunk, and made sure his room was free of all spare books, parchment, quills and anything else he might not want to leave behind. He scrawled a quick note to Ron, saying that he was leaving Privet Drive with Snuffles and would let him know where he would be as soon as he could, and set Pig off in the direction of Ottery St. Catchpole. He wrote a similar note to Hermione, and sent it with Artemis. Finally, he picked up Hedwig and stroked her glossy white feathers. "Sirius is picking me up today to go to Hogwarts - I'll meet you there, ok?" She gave a soft hoot of approval, then flew out the window after the other owls. He cleaned up her cage, making sure it gleamed before he packed it - he wasn't sure how Sirius and Remus would be taking him to Hogwarts and he wanted to make sure he didn't attract too much attention. Carrying a dirty owl cage onto the Muggle underground was a sure way of bringing attention to himself and the people travelling with him.

Too excited to sleep that night, Harry read another two chapters of_ The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_. He had just finished reading about Dumbledore's defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald when he remembered the diary. Maybe that would help him get to sleep.

Pulling out his eagle feather quill, he loaded it with ink and wrote:

__

Everyone keeps telling me I'm not processing everything from last term. They say I'm not dealing with what happened. Just because I'm not walking around sobbing all the time - does that mean I'm an emotional pygmy? How else am I supposed to deal with it? Cedric is dead - and while they tell me it's not my fault, I can only remember how I insisted he take the cup with me. He was ready to walk away from it. People still say after everything that happened that I won the Tri-Wizard Tournament. That's not true. Cedric won. He didn't have Barty Crouch fixing things to go his way in that maze. He fought the dragon on his own - no one had to tell him how. He managed to figure out everything and he should get the credit for it. But now he's dead, and rather then say "well, Harry - you won by default" they say "You and Cedric tied, and would have won together. You would both be Tri-Wizard Champions." But there was only one Tri-Wizard Champion last year - and he was murdered.

It was a relief to see this - even if no one else could. He could at least tell the diary the truth. Cedric had won. Cedric should be alive, he should be Head boy, he should be able to grow up and marry Cho Chang and raise a family. Cedric should be anything other than dead. But Cedric was dead. Maybe the more Harry wrote it, the easier it would be to believeexcept he knew he would never accept it.

His mind wandered, and settled on the other thing that was bothering him. Hermione. Krum. Bulgaria. He wrote:

__

We've all grown up this year. Hermione is no longer a little girl, just as Ron and I are no longer little boys. What's going to happen to the three of us now that we are growing up? Ron and Hermione are going to have to deal with their feelings - how will that change our friendship?

He swallowed. He didn't want things to change. But they would - they had to.

And then Harry wrote that was worrying him most of all:

__

And if they do deal with their feelings - where does that leave me?

There! He'd said it. "You were right, Mione - I did need this." He murmured. Feeling as though a large weight had been lifted from his chest, he put the diary and quill down next to his bed, set his alarm for 7 and went to sleep.

When the alarm rang a few hours later, Harry slipped out of bed and took a quick shower. Changing into jeans and a button down shirt (both of which were new - Dudley's shirts had been too short for him as well) he tucked his wand into his pocket, slipped the small bag Dumbledore had sent into his front pocket, and heaved his trunk down the stairs and next to the door. He set Hedwig's cage on top, then made sure his booklist was inside the diary, as well as his Marauder's Map. He placed the diary carefully on top of the trunk and headed into the kitchen.

The entire Dursley family was seated around the table - even Dudley, who hadn't been up at seven since he was old enough to say "no". Harry couldn't help but notice his aunt and uncle looked even more tense than they usually did when they were dealing with anyone from Harry's world. Dudley looked nothing short of terrified. Harry grinned and spread a liberal amount of jam on his toast, which didn't even draw the usual protest from his aunt.

At precisely 8 am, the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia knocked over her tea. Uncle Vernon turned a rather pronounced shade of chartreuse. Poor Dudley, however, seemed determined to appear brave. "I'll get it." He volunteered, and was off before his panicked mother could stop him. Harry rose, and followed his cousin.

In the doorway stood an enormous shaggy black dog, and a pale man Harry recognized at once as Remus Lupin. "Harry." Lupin said warmly, holding out a hand. "How are you?"

"Great, now." Harry returned his smile. "Hey." He patted his godfather on top of his furry head. "Incognito today, Snuffles?"

"Just until we're safely inside." Remus looked behind him, and pulled the door shut.

"Weird, neither of you look like a were-" Dudley's comments were cut off by a soft scream as Sirius changed form from dog to man. "Holy sh- that was bloody brilliant!" he stammered.

"Thank you." Sirius said dryly. "You would be Harry's cousin?"

"Dudley Dursley." Dudley managed to stammer out. His aunt and uncle came out into the hallway then, and neither wore an expression that was overly welcoming. "You're Harry's godfather?" Dudley asked.

Sirius nodded.

"Meaning that you're the werewolf?" Dudley frowned. "You don't look like one."

Remus smiled politely. "I assure you, I am a werewolf. And while I look perfectly harmless now, tonight is another story."

Aunt Petunia gave a half-gasp and pulled Dudley towards her, as if to shield him from Lupin's gaze. Lupin turned to Harry, and gave him the smallest of winks. Harry just grinned.

"Well, goodbye." He said to the Dursleys, wanting to leave as quickly as possible. They didn't answer, just stared after him. Even Sirius changing back into a dog, and Lupin performing the _Leviosa_ charm to make Harry's trunk levitate a few inches off the ground produced no reaction aside from a few gasps. Laughing, Harry followed his godfather out the door.

"Before I forget, Professor Dumbledore sent this - said it was for the two of you."

Lupin opened the sack, and poured a handful of what looked like glitter into his hand. "Yes, he said he would send this as soon as he finished making it." Lupin looked excited. "This may go down as one of Dumbledore's biggest accomplishments."

"What is that stuff?" Harry asked, watching it sparkle.

"The Headmaster calls it Disapparation Dust. Similar to Floo Powder, only you don't need a fire. You don't have to tell it where to take you, either - it takes you to where the maker designated for you to go. Think of the possibilities! If you were to make some up for me Harry, whenever I wanted to see you I would just have to throw some on the ground, step in the circle and there I am! More secure then using the Floo Network, and minors can use it without an apparition license."

"But - where are we going? I know you can't just apparate into Hogwarts." Hermione must have said that about a thousand times in the last two years.

"You're right - but you can apparate into Hogsmeade." Lupin smiled. "From there, it's just a short walk until you're back on the Hogwarts grounds. And we can pick up whatever books and supplies you need in Hogsmeade as well." He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching them, then tossed a circle of the sparkling glittery powder onto the ground. It sizzled where it landed, looking like a ring of stars on the ground. The great dog walked into the circle, and a moment later he had vanished - along with the powdery circle.

"Whoah." Harry whispered. "No one would ever know it was there."

"Impressive, eh? You go next, and I'll follow." Lupin said.

Harry didn't have to be told twice. Lupin made another circle with the powder, and Harry stepped inside it. He felt the instant tug behind his spine, and then he was whirling off in a very fast blur. Unlike Floo powder, however, this didn't rush him past fireplaces, so he didn't get that dizzy and sick feeling. His feet crashed into the ground without the bone-crunching halt of a portkey. Without question, he absolutely preferred the Disapparation Dust.

Sirius was waiting for him, his tail wagging. He stepped out of the way and towards his godfather just in time to see Remus Lupin appear exactly where he had been standing. Lupin's normally pale skin looked flushed with excitement.

"I look forward to telling Dumbledore his newest baby is a complete success. Come on, Harry - we'll stop by Dervish and Banges first so you can get your supplies for school."

They walked up the main road of Hogsmeade. As the only all-wizard community in Britain, they hadn't attracted so much as a blink from the villagers with their sudden appearance outside Honeydukes sweet shop. Harry was itching to go inside the candy store, but realized with a start that he had only a few Galleons on him. "Siri- I mean, Snuffles, I haven't been able to go to Gringotts in ages. I don't have enough money to cover all of this."

"Not to worry." Remus held out a small moneybag to him. "Dumbledore took care of that for you as well. We picked this up yesterday from your vault at Gringotts." Inside the bag was more than enough money to see him through the term. "We weren't sure what all you'd need this year - as much as you've grown, a few new robes wouldn't hurt."

He was right, Harry realized. His old robes wouldn't fit him. Besides, as a prefect he really should have new robes. He followed Remus into March's Modiste, and left a short time later with five new sets of black everyday robes, and a new set of dress robes in Gryffindor scarlet. Their next stop was Dervish and Banges, where Harry could not only re-stock his potion ingredients but also buy everything on his booklist. He noticed a few unusual texts such _as Grindelwald: Why We Should Be Thoroughly Relieved That One's Gone_, by Prudence Perrinald, and _The DAS: A Study of Those Who Practice the Dark Arts and Why They'll Never Be Voted Prom Queen_, by Iris Tenterhooks. There was also _Preparing for Your O.W.L.'s: Give up Eating and Sleeping Now as You'll Never Be Ready_, by Matthew Mage and curiously enough _Introductory Psychology and Sociology_, by Dr. Amanda DeBolt. That last one looked like it was a Muggle text book - _interesting,_ thought Harry. He shrugged and added it to the stack of books, which also included the usual _Standard Book of Spells: Grade Five_, and _A Thousand **More** Magical Herbs and Fungi._

Loaded down with packages, the small group made their way up the path to the castle entrance. Harry had barely started up the stone steps when a familiar voice made him freeze. "Potter!"

Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the steps to meet him. "You made it," she said briskly. "The Headmaster was starting to worry. Thank you for making sure he arrived safely, Remus."

"Not at all, Minerva. I would like to check in with the Headmaster before I leave-"

"Professor Dumbledore said for you all to come to the Great Hall straightaway - he's held breakfast for you." Her eyes flickered over the dog. "All of you." Her tone sounded less then pleased at the thought of a dog invading the Great Hall.

"Leave your things in the hallway, Potter. The house elves will see to it that they are taken to your room. The password is 'Patchouli'. Professor Dumbledore wants you to meet with Professor Moody as soon as you have finished breakfast."

"Ok." Harry said. He'd really wanted to owl Ron and Hermione and let them know where he was, but didn't dare argue.

He followed Professor McGonagall, Lupin, and Sirius into the Great Hall. The long House tables were conspicuously absent, and the teachers were all gathered around smaller round tables. Professor Dumbledore raised a hand in greeting, and several of the other teachers, noticing who had entered, did likewise. Tiny Professor Flitwck gave an excited wave to Harry, who returned it nervously.

Professor Moody, he noticed, was sitting directly next to Dumbledore and was watching him intently. "Nice to meet you at last, Potter." Moody growled. It was confusing to hear that voice and know that despite almost a full year of contact, he had never known the _real _Alastor Moodyonly the imposter played by Barty Crouch.

"Harry - come and have a seat." Dumbledore patted the empty seat to his right, and indicated that Lupin and McGonagall should sit.

"The dog, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"This dog is a friend of Harry's, and is extremely well-trained. He's welcome to stay if he likes, or he can eat in the kitchens." Dumbledore said evenly. Sirius chose to trot off in the direction of the kitchens, his tail wagging, no doubt already anticipating some of the elves' excellent cooking.

It was a bit unnerving for Harry, sitting there surrounded by teachers. The attitude was certainly less formal than during the regular school year - if he wasn't mistaken he'd just seen Madam Hooch cause something in Professor Trelawney's porridge turn a distinct shade of puce - but he felt as if every eye was on him.

He was extremely thankful when breakfast ended and the teachers left the hall en masse. He waited with Professor Dumbledore and Moody to say goodbye to Lupin. "Keep me posted, Remus. You're our eyes and ears in London." Dumbledore said. Sirius came bounding up from the kitchens, looking well fed and pleased with himself. Harry was allowed to pat his head once before he headed to Lupin's side. "We'll see you back again shortly. Harry is in good hands." Dumbledore had a firm grip on Harry's arm as they waved Remus and Sirius off.

"You'll see them again, Harry. Sirius is welcome here whenever he wishes." Harry's eyes widened. Dumbledore had said Sirius's name in front of Moody. "Professor Moody is fully aware of Sirius's innocence, and of his being an Animagus." Dumbledore continued. "He also knows of Peter Pettigrew's Animagus identity, so he knows what to look for."

"And now, it's time for your new training, Harry. If you would be so kind as to start him, Alastor. I have a letter I need to send to Mr. Weasley's family as well as Miss Granger's, so that they will know our young friend is safe and sound." With that, Dumbledore left Harry alone with Moody.


	3. Siren's Song Chapter 3

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, adult situations

Spoilers: _SS, CoS, PoA and GoF_

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. Many thanks to my beta readers, Kestral and Elliot, who keep me honest.

* * *

Moody gave Harry a thorough once over as he circled him, his wooden leg pounding against the floor. Without asking, he reached for Harry's arm and yanked up his sleeve, studying the long scar there. Looking from the scar to Harry's face, he seemed to make some sort of decision. "You can't blame yourself, Potter. People have suspected for years that Voldemort would find a way to come back - a power hungry bastard like him doesn't just shuffle off that easily. And as for Diggory, you did as much for him and his family as anyone could have hoped. Brave thing, bringing back his body, meeting with his parents. Most people couldn't have dealt with half of what you have, let alone have the courage to want to face Voldemort again."

"My friends keep telling me I haven't dealt with it." Harry said before he could stop himself.

"Just because you haven't handled things as they would have doesn't mean you haven't dealt with them. And I daresay this is something you can't come to terms with in a matter of weeks. Guilt's a funny thing, Potterit can come back to haunt you when you least expect it. Not that anyone thinks you should feel guilty - but you have to convince yourself of that fact." He released Harry's arm. "Right. Now, I understand that last year you learned things in order to survive the Tournament - things far beyond most seventh-years' abilities. That tells me you've got plenty of brains to go along with that courage. We'll be testing them both soon enough. Come along - we need to get started on this. You'll need to meet Professor Velange. She'll be working with you on understanding what the Dark Arts are and how to recognize those that get involved in them. Velange will help you learn to recognize the signs of a potential Dark wizard; could be a time that you get to help one that's not in too deep chose another way."

"What happened to Bin - I mean Professor Binns?" Harry asked, as they headed up the stairs towards the fifth floor.

"Nothing - he's still teaching History of Magic to the younger students. Fourth years and up will be taught by Professor Velange. Dumbledore thought with one thing and another, a change of curriculum was necessary. And I think you've had enough of the goblin rebellions, wouldn't you say?" Harry grinned - Moody seemed very well informed about the daily business that took place at Hogwarts. "Velange is going to teach what Dumbledore calls Current Events - feels everyone above fourth year needs to know exactly whom and what they're fighting. I happen to agree with him - more than one of them is going to be pressured to join the Death Eaters, and it's a sight easier for them to choose the right path when they know exactly what they're getting into otherwise." Moody was leading him in the direction of the library, Harry realized. When they reached the ornately carved wooden doors, Moody held open one for Harry. "After you," he said, with a craggy smile.

Harry was still trying to separate the Moody he had known last year and this Moody (they were so similar in many ways - Crouch had really imitated Moody to perfection) in his mind. So preoccupied was he that at first he didn't see the red-haired woman in rust colored robes talking to Madam Pince, the librarian. She turned and smiled at them both.

"Professor Velange, Harry Potter." Moody said by way of introduction.

Professor Velange came as something of a surprise to Harry. She seemed young, certainly younger than any of their other teachers. Her eyes, however, looked as old as Binns' - tired and somehow sad. In retrospect, Harry suspected Velange to be around the same age as Remus Lupin. Perhaps she too had known his parents? He opened his mouth to ask, but then decided that was a bit rude as they'd just met. Instead he shook her hand.

"A pleasure, Harry." Her voice made him feel as though he had just finished a bottle of butterbeer in a single gulp. It was husky and warm, and as it resonated throughout the room he couldn't help but think of how her voice would make for an excellent change of pace from Binns' dry wheezy rasp. "I believe Professor Moody will be working with you this morning. I will meet you back here after lunch. My classroom is currently in the midst of its summer cleaning and I don't wish to disturb the elves by causing a distraction with our presence." Harry bit back his grin as he envisioned the elves simultaneously cleaning and offering eclairs. "Madam Pince was kind enough to allow us to use of one of the study rooms in the restricted section."

Harry had never been allowed in the restricted section for long enough to see the study rooms - he'd heard about them though. They were soundproofed, although each had an alarm to summon Madam Pince in the event that a student found themselves in trouble with one of the many dangerous books housed in the restricted section. He'd also heard about more than one student receiving detention for getting caught in a study room without permission. The Astronomy Tower and the restricted study rooms were both very popular with couples at Hogwarts due to the privacy they allowed.

"Nice meeting you," Harry said, as Moody headed out the door again and he followed him.

Moody led him down to his office, and Harry looked around curiously. Yes, the Dark detectors were still there. He recognized the Sneakoscope, the Secrecy Sensor and the Foe-Glass. There were, however, a number of new devices that he didn't recognize.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously, pointing to what looked like a barometer.

"Darkness Diviner - monitors the amount of Dark magic in the air. All spells leave a magical signature, you know, and the Diviner monitors the different types. It lights up when too many Dark spells are in use at any one given time. It's good for about a fifty mile radius, so we can keep an eye out for unusually high Death Eater activity in Hogsmeade." Moody indicated for Harry to sit down in the chair across from his desk as he sat himself down, and poured a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Juice, Harry?" Harry nodded, still looking around. "Dumbledore's told you that I'll be teaching you both about the Dark Arts and how to defend yourself against them. I also know he's told you that the Ministry of Magic strictly controls the teaching of the Dark Arts. I'm going to elaborate on that a bit, Harry, so bear with me." He poured Harry some juice, then continued.

"Some years ago, all the wizard schools taught the Dark ArtsMuggle persecution was running high, and a wizard needed every tool he could get his hands on if he was to defend himself. Besides, what better way to make sure people understood just how serious getting involved with dark magic was than to let them deal with the side affects? Dumbledore brought that to a halt when he took over - flat out refused to teach it at Hogwarts. Beauxbatons and a lot of other schools followed suit. Not Durmstrang, though. Parents sent letters to their Ministry by the pound - felt that their students still needed it."

"So Karkaroff being there had nothing to do with it?" Harry asked.

"Not a bit. Keep in mind where Durmstrang is, Harry - they get students from villages that are quite isolated. Old suspicions die hard in that part of the world. No doubt their Ministry agreed with the parents - didn't want to risk losing students when Muggles went on a rampage." Moody's face became hard. "Nothing is ever black and white, Harry - you need to remember that. If a wizard uses a dark spell to protect himself from being killed, is it really dark magic? And wizards are still being met with suspicion all over the world; read any of the Muggle papers on a given day and you'll see what I mean."

"Now, I know that last year you learned about the Unforgivebles. We'll be studying those in a bit more depth, as well as how to fight them. Last year I hear tell that you learned how to fight the _Imperius._ This year you'll learn how to fight off the _Cruciatus_ as well. Dumbledore told me you've quite a powerful _Patronus_ under your belt- excellent, as we'll be using that on more than just dementors. First off, though, I want to test you and see how much you remember from last year. We'll start with the Hexes."

An hour later, Harry hobbled into the Great Hall, Moody walking in front of him. He had forgotten a great deal, it seemed, on the deflection of hexes and curses. His Shield Charm had lasted only a few seconds, before Moody shattered it. He had better luck with the _Imperius_, managing to throw it off in a matter of seconds. Moody had been pleased.

"A Shield Charm's not powerful enough to block more then kiddy curses, Potter - jelly-legs jinx and the like. Starting tomorrow, we'll work on the Impenetrable spell - teach you how to use that wand for self-defense."

"This feels more like dueling than learning." Harry said slowly. He was still trying to get the feeling back in both of his legs after he'd only partially blocked a _Petrificus Totalus_ spell, and found that his right leg was unable to bend for a while.

"Half of studying the Dark Arts lies inpractical lessons, Potter. I don't really care if you can tell me what the definition of a curse is, or the theory behind it - I want you to stop the damned thing. Plenty of time for a recitation of its merits afterwards." Moody grunted. He headed for a seat next to Dumbledore, while Harry sat down, wincing, next to Professor Flitwick.

"You must have done well, Harry - half of us expected you to end your first lesson with a visit to Madam Pomfrey." Professor Flitwick smiled. "You might want to take advantage of using the prefects bath tonight - it will help those sore muscles. The password is 'pine fresh'."

"I'll do that." Harry returned the smile, somewhat feebly, as he started in on his sausage and potatoes. He didn't speak much for the rest of the meal, mostly just listened to the teachers talk. They had an unusually large class of first years this year.

"Sixty two! Imagine it - three sets of twins!" Professor Sprout said, shaking her head.

"Well, it _is_ the Weasley twins' last year - we'll need a replacement set of troublemakers," said Professor Sinistra reasonably.

"I think we're seeing the first real class of baby-boomers this year," chuckled Professor Vector.

"Baby boomers?" Harry asked. "I thought that was a Muggle term, for the population surge after the War."

"And so it is here as well, Potter. After You-Know-Who's fall, the Ministry started reporting a sharp increase in the number of births in our community. Students graduating from Hogwarts and starting families of their own no longer had to worry about their children's safety. Aurors were no longer being pushed to the limits, had time to focus on their own lives. Jonas Ackerley, Dennis Madley, Cathleen O'Toole - all Aurors who retired early and decided spend time with the families. Cathleen went on to have 6 children, bless her." Professor Sprout said fondly. "I was stunned she stopped running around long enough to get pre-have a family." Sprout went somewhat red, realizing what she'd almost said.

"That's partly why Fudge is so desperate to keep You-Know-Who's reincarnation a secret," Flitwick piped up. "Doesn't want to throw parents into a panic. Our numbers are just now starting to resume the levels that they were at before You-Know-Who's rise to power. We need those families to ensure that our way of life survives, Harry. Especially when we have no way of knowing how many more promising students like Cedric we may lose." Realizing whom he'd just said this to, Flitwick had the grace to look abashed.

Harry looked down at his plate. He didn't want to think about Cedric today. He had enough to focus on. He picked at his food for a while, then excused himself and headed to the library.

Professor Velange was waiting for him. Madam Pince gave him a sharp look as they passed her, as though waiting for Harry to start opening every restricted book in the library just to see what would happen. Velange held open the door to the study room, and Harry stepped inside.

The walls of the room were painted a brilliant white, and there were candles burning in carved sconces on opposite sides of the door. A symbol he didn't recognize was carved into the large wooden table, and another was painted onto the ceiling. The room smelled of lavender, not overpowering but definitely present. The floor, he saw, was painted midnight black.

Velange was closely watching his reaction. "A Cabbalistic room. Cabbals hold that black and white are the colors of knowledge; black represents understanding because it absorbs all light - white represents the quintessence of Divine Light."

Harry didn't answer. No doubt Hermione would have followed that unusual statement without a problem, but Velange might just as well have been speaking in Gobbledygook. He merely nodded, and studied the candles that floating in mid-air, casting their shadows against the wall. Approximately half were black, the other half white.

Velange smiled. "The room has to be set up so as to protect those within, Harry. Those books out there are restricted for a very good reason - and allowing students to open them without taking every precaution would be foolish." She sat down, and indicated he should do the same.

"Tell me, Harry - who do you know that practices the Dark Arts?"

"Voldemort." Harry answered without hesitation. "The Death Eaters."

"Any one else?" she asked.

"Um" he thought a while. Every name that came to mind was either already a Death Eater, or a student. "None that I can name, Professor." He was half-tempted to say "all the Slytherins" but had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate his attempt at humor.

Her smile widened. "How about yourself?"


	4. Siren's Song Chapter 4

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. Many thanks to my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliot who keep me honest.I owe you guys big!

"Myself?" Harry gaped at her. "No, I don't practice the Dark Arts!" Was she kidding?

"Never tried to curse a fellow student? Never used magic to get by a teacher?" Velange asked briskly. 

"Well, yeah, of course I have." Harry was getting annoyed. "That's not the same thing."

"Isn't it?" she asked. "All right - what are the Dark Arts?"

"They're illegal spells." Harry said, having a feeling he knew she was going with this. "Spells wizards use against others to make them do their bidding, to cause harm."

"Exactly." Velange smiled and leaned forward, her face only a few inches from his own. "I somehow doubt the spells you used to get by a teacher, or on a fellow student would be strictly classified as illegal, but they would still fall within this definition. Wouldn't they?"

She leaned back. "Don't look so horrified, Harry - I'm not accusing you of anything," Velange said casually. "It's just important that you know that not everything can be easily categorized when it comes to discussing the Dark Arts. Tell me, you grew up in a Muggle household, did you ever watch old Hollywood westerns?"

He had, at Mrs. Figg's. "A few," he volunteered.

"How could you tell the good guys from the bad guys?" Velange asked.

"Their hats." Harry answered promptly. "The sheriff traditionally wore white, and all the villains wore black hats."

"Exactly. Fatal flaw in that, you know. Realistically, they should have all been wearing grey hats. Too many people try and apply the white hat-black hat equation in the real world. Unfortunately they tend to not like the results when they try and over-simplify. Can you give me an example of a time when someone tried to make a choice based on this over-simplification, and didn't like the results?"

This was the oddest class Harry had ever had - more of a discussion then anything. Yet he was enjoying himself. "Yes." He remembered all too well watching Mr. Crouch and his son in Dumbledore's pensieve. "Barty Crouch."

"Ah." Velange's green eyes lit up. "An excellent example. Explain." Harry couldn't help but notice how the candles reflected in those green eyes. She looked extremely pretty sitting there in her robes, hands folded under her chin, giving him her complete attention.

He forced himself to focus on her question. "Mr. Crouch saw himself as a white hat and the Death Eaters as black hats. He saw his job at eliminating ALL the black hats. Even when it came to his son, he couldn't see beyond the black hat. In handing over his son to the dementors, he became what he was fighting. He never gave his son a chance, never gave anyone a chance to find out if his son really was a Death Eater. So, we'll never know if his son became a Death Eater because of his father's betrayal, or if he had been a Death Eater before that."

"Exactly. By authorizing the use of the Unforgivables on those practicing them, was Crouch himself not practicing the Dark Arts? The Aurors who died using the Unforgivables under his orders - were they not bending to his will?" Her teeth were very white in her smile, he noticed. "We could talk philosophy all day, Harry. You grasped the issue very quickly. That's excellent. Remember that when we start on the DAS - the Dark Arts Society."

It was the most interesting lesson Harry had ever had at Hogwarts. Professor Velange had him outline what he felt made someone chose to join the Death Eaters. Then she had him look up several famous Dark wizards and compare their histories to see if any threads were common throughout. He couldn't help but notice that the three she'd assigned him were all from Slytherin. However, when he'd tried to include this as a reason that they may have chosen to join the Death Eaters, she ended that train of thought quickly.

"While it's true that more then the usual amount of dark wizards and Death eaters came from Slytherin house, there have been dark wizards from every house at Hogwarts." Velange said firmly. "In addition, not all dark wizards come from Hogwarts - there are dark wizards all over the world, most of whom have never even met a Slytherin. So that argument won't work. Try again."

His brain was exhausted when the hour was up. All he wanted to do was to go flop by the lake and watch the squid. Or maybe go to Hogsmeade and enjoy a drink at the Three Broomsticks. Velange gave him an approving look when he left. "You did very well, Harry. I hope all my students this year have as good a grasp of what the real issues are in the wizarding world. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded, his mind in something of a daze. Professor Velange was going to be one interesting teacher. He looked forward to watching how Seamus, his fellow Gryffindor and the best debater Harry had ever known, would handle Velange's rapid fire delivery.

Harry made his way down onto the lawn, his Firebolt in his hand, thinking he would practice a bit. Nothing ever cleared his head as effectively as a good flying session. He realized with a start that smoke was coming from the chimney of Hagrid's cabin, and hurried in that direction instead. He had missed Hagrid. Besides, he was wild with curiosity to know what Dumbledore had Hagrid working on.

Hagrid opened the door, a broad smile crossing his face. He pulled Harry into a tight hug that nearly crushed Harry's ribs before letting him go. "Heard you were here, Harry. Good 'ter see ya, Good 'ter see ya!"

"You too, Hagrid. Have a busy summer?" Harry grinned at him, settling himself in one of the massive wooden chairs at Hagrid's scrubbed wooden table.

"Might have had one, yeh. Nothing I can talk about, so ya needn't bother asking questions. Ron's been writing his hand clean off asking me the same thing. Nah, when you need to know, you'll know." With that mysterious comment, Hagrid poured them both a steaming cup of tea and pushed a plate of cookies in Harry's direction.

Unlike Hagrid's usual cooking, these actually appeared edible. "These look - good, Hagrid." Harry said, unable to keep the note of surprise from his voice.

"Took a few cooking lessons from Olympe - not quite up to snuff on her fancy French cooking, but I might've picked up a thing or two." Hagrid said. "Try it - it won't bite."

The cookies _were_ good, Harry thought in shock. He ended up eating half the plate as he and Hagrid discussed the summer and the new year. Hagrid pressed the rest of the cookies on him when he left and headed back up to school in time for dinner. "You've shot up a fair bit, Harry - need to eat a bit more to fill you out now."

Smells of food wafted from the Great Hall as he passed it on his way up to Gryffindor tower. Giving the password, he stepped inside and looked around, smiling. The tower's common room was clean and shiny, the fire already blazing - despite the warmth of the afternoon it would be chilly that night - and the pictures on the walls all waved and shouted their hellos. Harry headed up the curving stairs to the boys' dormitory, entering the circular room labeled "Fifth Years". 

Inside the room, his bed was already turned down, with his trunk opened and his things neatly arranged. Someone was waiting for him, sitting on his bed and giving him an annoyed look with her amber eyes. "Sorry, Hedwig." Harry leaned over to stroke her forehead. "This was my first chance to come up all day. Did you have a good flight?" 

Nipping his finger, Hedwig hooted in a way that let him know he was forgiven, then spread her wings and fluttered out the window. Harry stood, carefully placed the Firebolt in his trunk and headed downstairs for dinner.

The weeks that followed fell into a comfortable routine for Harry. In the mornings after breakfast, he met with Moody and worked on his Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. Moody was working with him on conjuring the extremely complex Impenetrable Spell, which, when used correctly, allowed Harry's wand to set up a magical net that blocked and contained most minor curses. Done well, the Impenetrable could block such powerful curses as the Impediment, the Imperius and the Disarming Charm. "With real strength of mind, you can even use it to block the Cruciatus . Only one wizard I know has ever managed that, but it's a good goal to work towards." Moody said.

Harry didn't have the strength to comment, even though he was curious to know who _that_ wizard was. Setting up the Impenetrable Spell required his mind to focus on sending out pure magical energy from the tip of his wand, and it was even more draining then when he was learning to summon a Patronus. He'd gone to Professor Flitwick for some extra help, and the Charms teacher had spent over an hour explaining the dynamics of how the spell worked.

__

Hermione would love this, he thought to himself as Flitwick droned on. She had always been fascinated at the theory behind a spell, how it worked, the mechanics involved. He just wanted to be able to do a real Impenetrable so they could move on the next task. Moody had told him that they would likely not get to actually _learning _any Dark arts until after school started. Harry had been less then pleased to hear that - in addition to his normal lessons, he was expected to continue with his training with Moody once school started. Between school, Moody's lessons, studying for his O.W.L.'s and Quidditch practice he would scarcely have time to breathe.

After meeting with Moody, Harry usually spent several hours in the library, studying. He knew once school started, he would be distracted by - well, truthfully everything - and he knew any uninterrupted studying would not only prepare him for his O.W.L.'s, but also would make the year much more satisfactory academically. He spent the largest portion of his time studying Potions, determined not to allow Snape to keep him from getting good marks this year.

After lunch, he met with Professor Velange. Soon they had moved on from what traits Dark wizards shared. They studied the origination of the Dark Arts Society, a secret organization as old as Hogwarts that supported the education and use of the dark arts for the protection of wizard society. The DAS, Harry learned, was still very much in existence, and had political and financial ties throughout the world. "The DAS sees itself as above the usual mores of the wizarding world, Harrythey feel the use of the dark arts to protect our world is perfectly acceptable, even if it means some people get caught in the crossfire. Their attitude is, better for a few Muggles be eliminated then have the world discover that we exist. The DAS ensures its members a certain amount of protection, power and influence - and not all of its workings are bad. They sponsor a number of students in schools around the world, children whose parents have been killed by Death Eaters. DAS loyalists view themselves as a separate entity from Voldemort and his supporters. They feel the Dark Arts are something sacred, not to be toyed with. Their members spend years studying them and feel Voldemort is throwing unwanted attention their way."

This beat Binns' lessons any day, including the day he talked about the Chamber of Secrets, Harry thought. After their lessons, Harry would often go practice Quidditch (Madam Hooch bewitched half a dozen Snitches for him so that he was able to practice chasing and diving without supervision.) At night, he usually studied, wrote letters to Ron and Hermione, and continued to write in the diary. A few days a week he would visit with Hagrid, playing with Fang, and trying to make Hagrid tell him how he'd spent the summer. Sirius met up with him at least once a week in the village to check up on him. All in all, it was one of the best summer holidays Harry had ever had.

Towards the end of August, Harry received a letter from Hermione.

__

Dear Harry - 

I hope all is going well with you. To think, a whole month in the library without any interruptions - I'm really jealous! Plus all the extra time you're getting to spend with Professor Moody - you must be learning loads. Are you giving any more thought to becoming an Auror?

Harry remembered how the imposter Moody had made that suggestion last year. He hadn't given it any more thought since the night of the third task. Now that he was getting to learn so much more about the Dark Arts, wouldn't it make sense to become an Auror?

He read on:

__

We just returned from Bulgaria, it's so nice to be home. Viktor made sure our visit was pleasant enough, but he made it clear he thought our relationship was far more serious then I did. I mean, I'm not even sixteen - and I'm certainly too young to be thinking how he was! To make a long story short, I don't think I'll be seeing him again.

Harry frowned. Just what _had _Viktor been thinking? Had he tried to take advantage of Hermione? It didn't make sense though - Viktor Krum hardly seemed the heavy-handed Lothario type.

__

Ron and I will be in Diagon Alley Monday of next week to get our supplies. Is there anything you need? Write and let me know and we'll bring it with us.

Looking forward to seeing you on September 1st! 

Love from

Hermione

Thoughts of Viktor Krum taking advantage of Hermione floated through his head all afternoon. Even visiting Hogsmeade, and spending a good deal of money at Honeydukes didn't manage to distract him. Sirius, following behind him, couldn't help but notice that something was the matter. His godfather followed him up the stairs and into Gryffindor tower before he transformed. "Harry, what on earth is on your mind? You didn't even notice when the owner of Honeydukes offered to let you sample their newest flavor of Bertie Botts Beans - lasagna!"

Rather then share what Hermione had written to him, Harry kicked at the floor. Looking up at Sirius, he asked "How do you shave?"

Sirius look startled. "Excuse me?"

"How do you shave? I've been using a razor, and it's doing a piss poor job - I'd just as soon not start out the new year as a prefect with tissue all over my neck and whiskers sticking out everywhere."

Sirius sat down, and began to laugh. "Of all the questions I was expecting you to ask first about growing up, Harry, this was definitely not what I envisioned!" Sobering, he said "Actually, I use a regular Muggle razor and cream - I've just charmed the razor to never go dull and to never cut the skin. I know many wizards who use their wand, but it's not as effective - they use a version of the Severing Charm. Why do you think so many wizards have beards? They get tired of walking around looking like they have dirty faces." He stood and said, "Come on - I'll show you."

It was one of the best days that summer. Sirius showed him how to shave, how to enchant his razor, and which soap to use to make his own shaving foam. Afterwards, they talked for hours about girls, and life, and growing up. Harry couldn't help but notice Sirius's face going red when they discussed sex. "I'm sorry, Harry - not that you're not old enough to hear - and I'd much rather you hear this from me then from the boys in the dorm. It's just that I can't believe you're old enough for us to be having this conversation."

"I already heard about it - mostly from Seamus. But it makes more sense coming from you." Harry said truthfully.

"Were you ever in love, Sirius?" Harry asked, as they toasted bread in front of the fire - they'd been so busy talking Harry had missed dinner. He and Sirius, disguised as usual, had made their way down to the kitchens and put together huge sandwiches to take back upstairs with them.

"Dozens of times." Sirius said with a smile.

"No. I mean, _really_ in love." Harry watched his godfather closely.

Sirius's eyes were bright, and he took a long time to answer. "Once. She was a very dear friend of your mother's. Lily chose her to be your godmother."

"I have a godmo-" Harry was silenced by the look on Sirius's face - a haunted, hopeless look. "What happened to her?"

"She went mad, after your parents were killed and I was accused. Just snapped. The last I heard she went to St. Mungo's." His voice was flat. "She couldn't handle - everything was going much too fast for her, Harry." 

"Oh." Harry looked at his toasting stick, and then at his godfather. "Did she, um, die there?"

"I don't know what happened to her." Sirius's tone indicated that there would be no further discussion on the subject. They sat in silence, watching the sparks of the fire dance. 

Then Sirius asked him "How do you feel about Hermione, Harry?"

Harry's head shot up. "She's one of my best friends." His answer was as flat as Sirius's had been.

"And?" Sirius prompted.

"No 'and'. Just the friendship - nothing else." Harry felt Sirius's eyes on him as he poked more bread on the end of his toasting stick.

Sirius was quiet for a long moment. "It's always a difficult situation when friends grow up, and there's attraction there Harry. You, Ron and Hermione have been quite the threesome for four years. Remember that real friendship sometimes involves sacrifices Harry." His godfather stood. "I'll check on you again in a week or so - have a pleasant evening." And Sirius left, leaving Harry with his very confused thoughts.

Harry sat in front of the fire for some time, watching the flames and thinking about what Sirius had said. "_Accio!_ " he said at last, and his diary and quill spiraled down the stairs and into his hands. The diary had become one of his most prized possessions in a very short amount of time, and it had become habit to log his thoughts in it almost every night. 

Tonight he wrote only four words:

__

I have a godmother. 

__


	5. Siren's Song Chapter 5

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. Many thanks to my excellent beta readers, Kestral and Elliot! You guys are worth your weight in galleons!

On the morning of September 1st, Harry woke to find the house elves busily cleaning Gryffindor tower. He realized that he had never actually seen a house elf working before, except in the kitchens. They were truly amazing; scrubbing, buffing, dusting - all in the blink of an eye. When they heard him enter they all bowed then vanished. He shook his head, thankful beyond words that Hermione hadn't witnessed that.

Walking into the Great Hall, Harry was startled to see that the long House tables were back in place, as was the staff table that ran across the front of the Hall. He also saw that Snape was sitting back at the head table with the rest of the teachers. He wondered how Snape's summer had gone - had he managed to reinstate himself with the Death Eaters? He sat at the Gryffindor table, picked at his toast and waited for breakfast to end. When Snape got up and left the room, Harry only hesitated a moment before following him.

He waited until Snape reached his office, then knocked. "Enter!" came the brusque voice. Seeing Harry, the Potions master looked less then pleased. "What is it, Potter?" he snapped.

"I came to see if there was anything I could do to help you get ready before the rest of the students arrived, sir." Harry said, meeting Snape's gaze. "I know you just returned and with everything that happened this summer I thought you might need an extra set of hands-"

Snape eyed him. "Very well said, Potter - even touchingly sincere." His voice had lost none of its sneer. "I assure you that I am more then prepared for the start of term. I thank you for the offer - good day." He bent his head down, and went back to what he had been reading. Harry didn't move. Snape's head shot back up. "Yes?" he said, impatiently.

"I just wanted to say - I hope your summer went well, sir." Not backing down an inch, Harry took a step towards the Potions master. "And to tell you I am looking forward to your class this year - I plan to do well on your O.W.L. examin fact -" Harry handed Snape a bit of parchment, showing a complicated potion. "I found this in my studies. A potion version of the Impenetrable spell. I was hoping to replicate it, after hours of course. Professor Moody and I are working on the actual spell version, and I thought this might ensure the charm's ability to deflect dangerous spells. My only question was this." Silently, Harry pointed to the highlighted fourth step. "Using a compound of belladonna, sandalwood oil and the winterberry skin - wouldn't the qualities of the belladonna and the sandalwood cancel one another out? This is the base of the formula, which will also serve to strengthen the affects of the other ingredients - shouldn't the belladonna be replaced with scorpion venom?" He held his breath.

Snape peered at the potion in Harry's hands, then at Harry. He snatched at the paper, and sat down, reading. After a long moment, he looked up at Harry. No smile, of course, but there was slightly less hostility in that gaze. "It would indeed. You have been studying, Potter - it would seem you picked up quite a lot this summer." He scribbled out a note and handed it to Harry. "Very well, Potter - you have my permission to try and replicate this - after hours. I will have to loan you the scorpion venom from my private stores. It's not exactly the kind of thing we keep in the student stores. I would suggest that you read up on the use of rare venoms before hand - it can go wrong if you're not careful. Madam Pince will loan you the book you need, just give her that permission slip." He stood, indicating that their conversation was over. "And Potter - don't make me regret this."

Harry nodded, and left. Outside the classroom he wanted to dance. He had actually made a dent in Snape's attitude! Perhaps this year, Potions wouldn't be the agony it usually was. 

Late that afternoon, the Hogwarts' Express arrived. Harry sat waiting eagerly in the Great Hall, keeping a sharp eye out for Ron and Hermione. He saw a flash of red hair, and got to his feet.

He spied Ginny Weasley first, and felt his face go slightly red. Ginny had grown up quite a bit over the summer. Her red hair had deep copper highlights, which accented her coffee-colored eyes. She'd gotten taller too, and had developed a graceful walk that was as eye-catching as her hair. _Get a grip_! Harry scolded himself. _That's Ron sister you're ogling_!

Even as he shook his head to clear the Ginny-induced fog, she was at his side, giving him a tight hug. "You never wrote to Mum," she said, a touch of reproach in her voice. "She's been worried sick about you."

"Oh, right. I'll do it after the feast." He was a tad breathless - that hug had revealed more then the mere fact that Ginny had gotten taller. She'd definitely acquired a woman's curves over the summer. And as he returned the hug, he could smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo. Flustered by his reaction, he let her go quickly.

"Harry!" He turned, and felt his jaw drop. Ginny wasn't the only one who'd grown up that summer!

Hermione's hair, always a long, flyaway bushy mess, now hung in soft ringlets that framed her face, stopping at her shoulders. She was very tan, which emphasized her brown eyes and pink lips. While she hadn't grown an inch in height, she'd definitely grown a few inches elsewhere. To put it into simple words, his awkward friend Hermione had turned into a beautiful young woman.

Harry managed to stammer out a greeting that hid his amazement at how different Hermione looked. "Where's Ron?" he asked, after giving Hermione a quick hug. 

"Pig managed to fly into a door on the train just as Fred was shutting it." Hermione said matter-of-factly. "He took him up to the Owlery."

"Is Pig ok?" Harry asked, trying not to roll his eyes. Ron's owl would never win any awards for intelligence.

"Stunned, mostly. I'm more afraid for Fred, actually. Ron's not likely to forgive that quickly." Hermione handed him a shiny silver badge. "Here - Angelina was handing these out on the train - your prefect badge." She whispered in his ear as they sat down, "You did tell Ron, right?"

"Yeah." Harry answered her, trying not to think about the whiff of strawberries he'd caught on her skin when she'd been that close. "He was ok with it."

At least, Harry hoped Ron was ok with his and Hermione being named prefects. He'd congratulated Harry in a letter, and never mentioned it again. "What'd he say to you about it?"

"All he said was that the day I gave him detention was the day he taught Crookshanks to pee in my bed." Hermione laughed. "He seemed fine - don't worry about it."

Just then, Ron entered the Great Hall looking harassed. Seeing Harry and Hermione, he hurried to join them at the long table. "Pig should be ok - he's having difficulty flying a straight line. Trouble is - I can't tell if it's from hitting the door or the fact that the smell of food was making him dizzy." Ron grinned at Harry. "Nice badge."

"Thanks." Ron, Harry noticed, had gotten even taller_. He must be well over six feet 4 by now_, Harry thought. 

"I want to hear about everything - how was it staying at Hogwarts? Did Snape make your life really miserable?" Ron's questions were cut off by the arrival of the first years.

Sprout had been right, Harry thought. This class was huge! Even Ron looked stunned at the size of it. "What'd they do - tell every couple in Hogsmeade to have kids?" he asked incredulously. When the third set of twins passed them, Hermione frowned. "That's almost a mathematical impossibility," she whispered to Harry.

"Sprout told me there was a sort of baby-boom after Voldemort fell." Harry whispered back. "There's 62 first years this year - that'll be fun to manage."

The sorting ceremony began, with the Hat singing its usual impressive lyrics. Then Professor McGonagall spoke. "When I call out your name, you will come forward, put on the Hat, and sit on the stool. Once the Hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."

"Ackerley, Lorelei!"

"Ravenclaw!"

Lorelei Ackerley went and joined her brother Stewart, looking visibly relieved.

"Ashburn, Matthew!"

"Hufflepuff!"

The sorting went on for quite a while. The first set of twins, Nicholas and Nora Beeman were both sorted into Slytherin. ("Funny - they don't look like the hounds of hell, do they?" Ron muttered.) The second set of twins, Amanda and Erica Madley, were placed into Hufflepuff with their older sister Laura. It was the last set that caught Harry's attention the most, however.

"Meghan O'Toole!" A small girl with very dark hair went calmly up to the stool, and placed it on her head. Harry stared. He'd never seen a first year so composed during the sorting ceremony. Normally they looked scared stiff.

"Gryffindor!" 

Harry clapped hard, along with the rest of his House, as Meghan O'Toole took off the hat, smiled at Professor McGonagall, and walked composedly to her seat at the Gryffindor table. He noticed a few of the teachers watching Meghan intently, Professor McGonagall most of all.

"Michael O'Toole!"

"Gryffindor!"

Michael was almost as composed as his sister as he slid off the stool and set the Hat back down. Oddly enough, he gave the hat a small bow before proceeding to the table. Some students laughed, but the O'Toole twins seemed completely non-plussed. _They must be two of Cathleen O'Toole's children_, Harry thought.

When the sorting was completed - it took almost 30 minutes; Harry knew because of Ron's bitter complaints in his ear - There were 16 new Gryffindors - 10 boys and six girls. Harry looked at Hermione. "We don't have enough rooms for them," he whispered.

"Of course we do," Hermione whispered back. "They'll all fit - you'll see."

Harry, who had never seen more then six students to a dorm room, found this very hard to believe.

Dumbledore stood, and silence filled the hall. "The start of another year. Before we begin on this excellent meal," ("Oh, hurry up!" Ron groaned. "I haven't eaten in hours!") "I have a few announcements to make."

"First, I would like to introduce our Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody. Some of you may recognize the name from last year. Unlike last year, however, Alastor Moody will be the teacher for all Defense against the Dark Arts classes." A loud applause followed this announcement, as everyone except the first years knew how Moody had spent the last term; locked in his own magical trunk by Barty Crouch.

"Secondly, I would like to introduce a new member of our staff, Professor Helena Velange. Professor Velange will be sharing the responsibility for teaching History of Magic with Professor Binns. Students above fourth year will be participating in a new class this year with Professor Velange, Current Events in the History and Sociology of Magic." Harry caught sight of the older boys clapping especially hard at this announcement. Fred and George were catcalling. Harry had to admit that Velange looked very pretty in red robes that almost matched her hair.

"Lastly, in light of the events of last term, I want to re-stress to you all that certain areas of the castle are forbidden for your own safety. This includes both the third floor, as well as the Forbidden Forest. Also, to all students below third year, the village of Hogsmeade is strictly off-limits."

"And now - I suggest that you relax and enjoy this excellent feast."

After Harry and Ron had practically gouged themselves on food, Ron deciding on third helpings of almost everything, they realized Hermione had stopped eating and was keeping a close eye on the Head table. No, Harry realized, that wasn't right, she was keeping a close eye on _Snape_. "Did he say anything at all about what happened this summer?" Hermione asked, not taking her eyes off the Head Table.

"No. But then, he did just get back." Harry couldn't help but notice that Snape and Velange appeared to be having a very intense discussion. Snape looked almost - _happy_? 

"What do you mean, he just got back?" Ron demanded. "Where was he?"

"Dunno." Harry answered. "He just got back this morning though. I went and offered to help him get ready and he told me he was fine-"

Ron stared at him. "Who are you?" he asked at last. "I mean, you look and sound like Harry, or you did right up to that bit about helping Snape"

"It's true." Harry shrugged. "What's more, I told him I was looking forward to doing well on my O.W.L.'s.got his permission to work after-hours on the Impenetrable potion."

Hermione and Ginny looked impressed. Ron looked horrified. "That prefect badge has made you mental!" he said. "You, volunteering for extra work from Snape? What's next - coming up with new ways to off yourself for Trelawney?"

Hermione gave Ron a scathing look, and put her arm around Harry. "I think it's wonderful. You have the mind for Potions, you know. It works well with Defense against the Dark Arts. And think how many points we _won't_ lose this year!"

Ron merely rolled his eyes. Harry couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on Hermione's arm, still wrapped tightly around Harry. Nor did he miss the look in Ginny's eyes. Fortunately, dessert showed up at that very moment, preventing the conversation from going any further as everyone enjoyed the delicious cakes, pies and puddings.

As the hall began to empty, Harry and Hermione headed with the rest of the new prefects to the Head table. Angelina and Roger were waiting for them. "The older prefects are taking the students to their dorms. This way we can cover the basics for our new prefects and answer any questions."

Harry looked around. In addition to himself and Hermione, there was Draco Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode, the Slytherin prefects; Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones, the Hufflepuff prefects; and Terry Boot and Padma Patil, the Ravenclaw prefects. 

Roger Davies looked in his element. Not only did he give a full thirty-minute lecture on the responsibilities and sacred duties of being a prefect, he droned on and on about trick steps, moving stairs, and unreliable picture occupants that they needed to educate the first-years on. Angelina cut him off as he began a lecture on how exactly to deal with Peeves, the poltergeist. "And now," Angelina said, giving Roger a stern look. "Does anyone have any questions?" No one did - they were too busy trying to look awake. "Wonderful. Bed." Angelina said firmly. As Harry and Hermione walked out, he could see Roger and Angelina having a very intense conversation.

"I can't believe it - someone on a bigger power trip then Percy." Hermione muttered as they headed up the stairs. The sound of someone calling their names made them both turn, accidentally brushing hands. Harry pulled his hand back like he'd just been burned.

"Hey, Granger." It was Malfoy. "Saw your pictures with Krum. How did you talk Weasley down from the ledge?"

"Whatever you're on about, Malfoy, can it please wait until morning?" Hermione said irritably. "I'd prefer to have my witty banter with you after I've gotten some sleep."

"Suits me." His eyes were already making their way down her body. "Your bed or mine?"

Hermione started to sputter angrily, but Harry beat her to the punch. "In your best fantasies, Malfoy. The day Hermione Granger graces you with more then an insult." Harry said coldly.

"Oh - I see. One more volunteer for the Mudblood-lover Brigade. Tell me, Potter, do you and Weasley take turns dreaming about Granger?"

Hermione's hand went up and for a second Harry though wildly that she might slap Malfoy again. Malfoy reached for it lazily, bringing it to his mouth where he dropped a lazy kiss on her palm. "Name the time, Granger." With that, he strode off without a backward glance.

Hermione stood frozen then stalked up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower so quickly Harry had to almost run to catch up. It was amazing, he thought, how fast her legs would carry her when she was angry. Steam was practically pouring from Hermione's ears, and it was all Harry could do to keep up with her.

Neither said a word as they approached the portrait hole that guarded the Gryffindor common room. "Patchouli," Hermione said, in an odd, strangled sort of voice.

The picture of the Fat Lady swung open, and together they entered the common room to find both Ron and Ginny waiting. One look at Hermione's red face had Ron out of his chair. "What's up?"

"Malfoy," Harry said. Funny how that one name could answer so many questions.

"That foul, evil, _prick!" _Hermione raged, before launching into a diatribe of words that Harry never even suspected she knew, let alone used.

"Hermione!" squealed Ginny. She looked as though she was torn between shock and admiration. "What on earth?"

"Three years of calling me Mudblood, and he thinks I'll just fall into his arms for a good snog because his Highness deigned to notice that I'm a girl! No doubt I was supposed to fall to my knees and kiss his feet, the way Pansy and the rest of those simpering Slytherin twits do." Her face was slowly fading back to its normal color, though there were still spots of bright red in her cheeks. If anything it made Hermione look even prettier. 

Ron went to her side then, and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "He's not worth you getting this steamed over. Besides, you hate that sort of language." He grinned. "Let me do the name calling for you, 'Mione, it's really not your cup of tea."

She burrowed her head against his chest, as if seeking some sort of peace that only Ron could give. Ron froze, his eyes on Harry, then awkwardly kissed the top of Hermione's head while she clung to him. 

The last time Harry had seen them like this had been in their third year, after Ron had forgiven Hermione's cat for appearing to eat his pet rat Scabbers. Back then, Ron had not known how to act, and had seemed most thoroughly relieved when Hermione had let him go. Now, however, he seemed uninterested in releasing her any time soon and HermioneHarry looked away.

Ginny cleared her throat. "I'm off to bed" She paused on the stairwell, giving Harry a significant stare. "Coming, Harry?"

"What? Oh, right." Harry was surprised at his reluctance to leave the room, but the look in Ginny's eyes warned him not to argue. "Night, you two." They didn't answer, and Harry followed after Ginny, frowning.

"Did anything happen between them this summer that I ought to know about?" he asked, the second they were out of earshot.

"That's their business. Ask Ron if you want to know." Ginny said easily. As they reached the top of the stairs that split off towards the girls' and boys' respective dormitories, Ginny placed a light hand on Harry's arm. "We really missed you this summer, Harry." She swallowed, then added, "_I_ really missed you this summer."

Harry stared at her. Before he could answer, Ginny had stood on her toes and pressed a light kiss against his mouth. Then she was gone, and Harry was left staring after her, still feeling the warmth of her lips against his own.


	6. Siren's Song Chapter 6

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. (I'd like to add here my sincere request that the report I read about the delaying of book five was a hoax designed to ensure me of having a bad day! Come on, Jo - It's been TWO YEARS!!!! We're all in withdrawal!!!!) Many thanks to my fabulous beta-readers, Kestral and Elliot, who keep me honestyour comments are worth their weight in gold. If I don't say it enough, thanks.

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit longer then usual, but I had a lot to cover. The references to the Tarot come from Janina Renee's_ Tarot for a New Generation _(Llewellyn Worldwide, 2001) and Karen Hamaker-Zondag _Tarot as a Way of Life:A Jungian Approach to Tarot_ (Weiser, 1997). 

Harry woke early the next morning, startled out of the deep sleep he'd been enjoying. His dreams had been most confusing that night: centering on Ron, Hermione and Ginny. And all of them ending the same way, with Ginny's kiss. He could still feel the touch of her lips on his, tentative and warm. Obviously the little Ginny Weasley he'd known for three years was growing up.

He looked over at Ron's bed. It was empty, he realized. _That's odd_, he thought. Finding his slippers, he slipped down the stairs and into the common room. Surely, Ron wasn't still there

He rounded the corner of the stairs, and stood frozen. Ron was fast asleep in front of the fire, his arms wrapped tightly around a girl with curly brown hair. Hermione. 

A thousand questions exploded in Harry's mind. When had this all happened? While he was here, at Hogwarts? Giving himself a rough mental shake, he walked silently over to them and gave Ron's shoulder a gentle poke.

"Wha-" Ron's blue eyes popped open, looking dazed. Seeing Harry, he gave him a bemused look, then started as he realized just whom he was holding. Hermione opened her eyes, and sat bold upright. The two of them looked as though they'd been caught using Mrs. Norris as a Quaffle.

"It's all right," Harry assured them. _It really is,_ he told himself. They were his best friends; he wanted them to be happy. Really he did. "It's just that everyone's going to be up in a few hours, and I thought you should both get up to bed."

"Right." Hermione pulled awkwardly away from Ron, giving Harry a small smile. "Thanks, Harry. It would have been awful if George and Fred had beaten you down here." She hurried up the stairs in the direction of her room.

"Harry," Ron said heavily. "I guess you want to know what's going-"

"Not really," Harry lied. "I can put two and two together." Even when he hated the answer

"Really? 'Cause I keep ending up with three." Ron said miserably. "As in, the three of us." His mouth twisted unhappily as he said, "The last five years it's always been us three, you know? I justdon't want to wreck it..."

Harry gave Ron a measured look. "How long have you felt this way about Hermione?" he asked in a low voice.

"Oh, I don't know." Rifling an exasperated hand through his red hair, Ron rubbed his hands over his face. "Ages. Since the night of the Yule Ball. No, earlier - since second year maybe?" He looked miserable. "Not that it matters. She's with that great hairy Krum. He should have her, you know - he saw her before the rest of us did. Before I did, really. I just always thought" his voice trailed off.

"That she'd be there?" Harry finished his sentence for him. He hid the look of surprise he'd felt when Ron had spoken about Krum. _Why had Hermione not told Ron she'd broken it off with Krum? _Harry wondered. He wasn't sure if he should, either. Hermione very rarely ever did something unless it was for a very good reason.

"Something like that. It sounds awful, I know." Ron bit his lip, then looked at Harry very seriously. "A big part of this lies with you, mate. We've been through a lot. After last year, I spent all summer trying to figure out what Voldemort would throw at us next." Harry gaped at him. _Ron_ had said _Voldemort's name_ too? Ron, who had been the most insistent about never speaking about "You-Know-Who" too loudly? And, Harry realized, Ron had spoken about Voldemort's next plot against 'us'. Not against Harry, but them. The Dream Team, as Snape often snidely referred to them.

"Harry?" Ron looked worried, and Harry turned his attention from his very jumbled thoughts.

"You said his name," Harry said swiftly.

"Huh?"

"Nice comeback. Voldemort - you said his name."

"Oh." Ron looked startled. "I didn't even notice." He tapped his fingers anxiously against the chair, then gave Harry a weak grin. "As I haven't burst into flames or anything, I guess that's one bad habit gone." He stood up then, and began walking around the room saying "Voldemort! Voldemort!" After a few chants, he began to laugh. "Remind me when I become an evil overlord to chose a name that really strikes fear into people's hearts. This one doesn't quite cut it."

Harry snickered. "How about 'Ron the Ridiculer of Cauldron Bottom Reports'?"

"Not quite heart striking enough. I like 'Weasley the Woeful Diviner'. Might sign my next report for Trelawney that way." His face was suddenly anxious. "Harry, are we ok?"

"Never better." Harry grinned. "I feel like I should take this advantageous time to inform you that your sister kissed me last night. On the lips," he added for affect.

"I figured you didn't mean on the nose, you prat." Ron appeared torn between anxiety over his friendship with Harry and brotherly protection of his sister. "Did you kiss her back?"

"Uh, no." When he saw that Ron was starting to look angry, he hurried to explain. "It was so quick, I didn't have time." _Besides_, he thought to himself angrily, _I was trying to deal with the thought that you and Hermione seemed to be attached at the belly button_. 

"What are you going to do about it?" Ron asked, his voice carefully revealing nothing.

"Dunno. Figure out what to do next, I guess." He headed for the stairs. "We have to be up in a bit, Ron - and I'd rather not fall asleep in Velange's class."

Ron's face lit up. "Velange can't help but be an improvement over Binns. Even if she lectures on goblin rebellions in Swahili, at least we'll get to check out her, um, assets-"

"You sound like Seamus." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll bring a bucket for the two of you to drool in."

"You're just used to her, Harry. You got to spend all the quality time with her this summer." Ron followed him up the stairs, talking low. "Come on, spill. How was she?"

"Nothing doing.it'll spoil the fun of watching you and Seamus getting caught taking a great steamy look." For some reason, the thought of his classmates ogling Professor Velange annoyed him. 

"Right," said Ron. "Ginny will be thrilled to know you're immune to the lures of older women." Snorting, he went to bed.

When he woke up two hours later, Ron was sitting at the foot of his bed. He was already dressed, and when Harry sat up, he noticed Ron looking at him anxiously. "I already told you, we're ok." Harry said. "Really."

"I know." With that, Ron handed him a box. It was wrapped in sheets of newsprint from the Daily Prophet.

"On the other hand, if you're going to wake me up with presents, we're not ok. We won't be ok until I get a self-stirring-"

"It's your birthday present." Ron cut him off, a grin on his face. "Told you I couldn't send it with Pig."

"Good call - otherwise the Muggles would have had a field day reporting how on how Pig staggered all over Britain trying to get to Privet Drive." Harry ripped off the paper, opened the box, and let off a whoop of excitement. "How'd you know I needed these?" Inside were new gloves and pads for his Quidditch uniform. There was also a chain for his robes, carved with an elegant Gryffindor lion.

"Saw how you had trouble getting your gloves off after the last Slytherin match. The chain's from Ginny, actually. She thought since you were captain this year-"

Harry gaped at him. "But I'm not."

"Oh, come off it. You know Fred and George aren't interested in it, and Angelina said on the train there was no way she could that and be Head Girl. Katie and Alicia said they needed to focus on their NEWTS. That leaves you by default. Just accept it. Besides, you'll be great." Ron stood up, and stretched. Harry couldn't get over how tall his friend had gotten. "Best get a move on, unless you want to miss breakfast." He moved for the door.

Harry stared at his present, then said quietly, "Good thing you'll be on the team toowe can strategize together and drive Hermione positively mad."

"What?" Ron's head swiveled around to look at him.

"You heard me." Harry got out of bed, and began reaching for his shower kit. "We have an opening for Keeper, remember? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go shower."

At breakfast, Harry and Ginny sat next to each other. He still didn't know exactly how he felt about her; he was very attracted to her, and there was no denying that her kiss last night had left him feeling a tad light headed. But she was Ron's _sister_ . He'd spent so much time at The Burrow that he felt somehow guilty pinning his romantic sights on Ginny. 

On the other hand, they were friends, they were comfortable with each other - well, mostly. And Hermione looked thrilled to see them togethermostly. Her eyes had narrowed when Ginny had put a hand on his arm, laughing at a joke he'd made. Harry shook his head and returned to his eggs. Romantic intrigues were far too complicated for him to deal with this morning.

"New course schedules." Angelina brought the stack over to the Gryffindor table, and they passed them down the line to their owners. Hermione looked hers over. "Oooh, good. History of Magic with Velange. Those books she assigned were fascinating. I was a little surprised to see that Muggle Psychology book, though."

Ron dropped his fork. "That's for Velange's class? Damn, I thought it was for Muggle Studies."

"They sell them in Hogsmeade." Harry put in. "You can pick one up next visit."

"We'll share until then, Ron." Ginny added with a wicked grin. "For a small fee, naturally."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me keeping quiet about what you wrote in your diary this sum-OWW!" Ginny had apparently kicked him - hard - under the table. Scowling at his blushing sister, Ron looked at his own schedule. "I'm going to put in a written request for an inquiry as to why we ALWAYS have potions with the Slytherins. I swear Snape schedules them that way on purpose to make sure he has an audience for our humiliation."

"Not to mention Care of Magical Creatures." Harry added, citing a further groan from Ron and Hermione. "So long as we're petitioning, can we request that Divination be moved to midnight? Those naps in Trelawney's class are really starting to interfere with my sleep."

Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of a cold drawling voice. "Hello, Granger. I'm very disappointed you didn't stop by to finish our little talk." Draco Malfoy stood directly behind Hermione. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and bent down to whisper something in her ear. She went white with rage and stood up, Ron and Harry already on their feet.

"Problem, gentlemen?" Harry recognized the voice instantly, but Ron and Draco looked slightly taken aback upon hearing it. Professor Velange stood beside them, a look of amusement on her face. 

"No, Professor." Hermione put in quickly. "Draco here was just letting us know how thrilled he was that you're adding some elements of Muggle studies into the curriculum. Draco's _very_ interested in everything to do with Muggles." Her voice was saccharine sweet. Harry was impressed - no way could he have thought that fast on his feet.

"Really." Velange gave Draco a smile and an appraising look. "I have a few advanced projects you might be interested in, Mr. Malfoy. I believe I have your class first thing after breakfast. Why don't we walk down together and you can tell me what you'd like to learn from my class?" She placed a small hand on Malfoy's shoulder and began steering him back towards the Slytherin table. The look he shot back at the four of them was pure malice.

Ron was laughing so hard he had to wipe his eyes. "That's my girl!" he said, grinning at Hermione. "I've never seen Malfoy look so uncomfortable."

"Hard to tell Velange 'No'." Harry added.

Hermione was frowning. "Cheer up, Hermione - whatever he said is nothing to the hell you just created for him." Ginny said quietly.

"No, I suppose not." Hermione stood up. "I'm off. See you in History." 

Harry and Ron looked at one another, eyebrows raised_. What was that all about? _Harry thought_._

The thought of starting his first day back with Divination made Harry drag his feet all the way to the top of North Tower. Ron was next to him, talking excitedly about the upcoming Quidditch team try-outs. They were also accompanied by Seamus, Dean and Neville. None of them particularly enjoyed Divination, and it was because of this that they arrived five minutes late. Lavender and Parvati both gave them extremely cold looks, and turned their attention back to Professor Trelawney.

"My dears, it is time to move forward into your next phase of training! The Tarot date back hundreds of years, and still their powers remain a mystery to all but the trained mind. We will begin by reviewing the major Arcana."

Dimming the lights with a flick of her hand, Trelawney summoned up the large image of a Tarot card. It showed a light-hearted young man, with a small bag slung over his shoulder with a small dog at his heels. "The Major Arcana comprises the core of the Tarot deck. Twenty-two cards that depict symbolic patterns of human development, personality, situations and events. We begin by studying The Fool. The Fool is thought to represent every person in his or her original state of innocence and inexperience. It also represents the start of new journeys, new romances, and opportunities. However, the dog at his heels represents the voice of instinct, and warns of danger ahead"

Harry was soon lost in a daze of Magicians, High Priestesses and Emperors. The heavily perfumed air in Divination unfailingly made his head feel as though it had just been filled with the fog from one of Trelawney's crystal balls. Tarot was more interesting, he had to admit, then star charts or crystal balls. At least with cards he could memorize what they meant and have some solid information for once. On the other hand, he realized it would be much harder to bluff through the assignments as he and Ron usually did.

He came back to earth at a poke from Ron. "Pair up in teams of two," Professor Trelawney said in her airy-fairy voice. "Collect a packet of Tarot from me and return to your tables. Then chose your Significator card - the card that represents you. When you have completed that, perform the Three Card Spread as shown in your books, and read your interpretation, writing it down to turn in at the end of the class. When you have finished, your partner should do likewise. I will be around the room, lending guidance."

Ron, looking as though he'd rather be fighting off the Giant Squid with a pair of chopsticks then consulting a pack of cards regarding his future, collected the Tarot and returned to their table. He tossed the pack at Harry. "You first - you know she's dying to have them say how many ways you'll be decapitated this year. I'd hate to deprive her."

Rolling his eyes, Harry shuffled through the deck, looking for the card that was supposed to represent him. Choosing the Knight of Swords, he held it up for Ron to see. "That's you, all right - charging off on a horse to fight, and forgetting to lower your face shield." Ron grinned. "Go on - what do you want to ask it?"

"Can't it just be a general reading?" Harry wasn't really comfortable asking what he'd really like to know in front of Ron.

"I know - ask it about Voldemort. What he's up to, that sort of thing." He flipped through their book _Unfogging the Future_ and pointed to a chart. "Here - two major influences explaining the focus of the present situation."

"Right. I want to know about Voldemort." Harry said, shuffling the deck nervously. The cards were very cool to the touch. His Significator lay in the center of the table. He lay three cards out, the center one over the Knight of Swords. Ron whistled.

"I may not know much about Tarot, but this doesn't look like it's exactly talking about bunnies and sunshine."

Harry was looking at the cards incredulously. The first card was the Wheel of Fortune. A sphinx sat atop a wheel in which the letters "T-A-R-O" were interspersed with letters he didn't recognize. Four figures were in the corners of the card; an angel, an eagle, a winged lion and a winged bull. Beside the wheel slithered a long snake and a jackal headed figure he didn't recognize. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off the sphinx. He had faced a sphinx in the maze as part of the last taskwas this significant?

His next card was The Devil. "That's the focus card!" Ron hissed. The other two are the influences. "Well, we all know Voldemort is the devil incarnate." Harry said wearily. _How did I pull that particular card, though?_ Twenty-two major arcana (21, if you took out the wheel of fortune card) and he'd managed to pull the Devil for the Focus card?

The last card showed a man lying on the ground, with ten swords stuck in his back. _The ten of Swords_, Harry thought automatically. _What does this all mean?_

Ron was making such a big deal over Harry's reading that Seamus and Dean came over to look. "Harry, promise me you weren't asking for the results of the first Quidditch match." Dean said, looking half-impressed. "If so, I'd just forfeit - no way are you going to beat that lot."

Harry frowned at him. "No, I wasn't asking about Quidditch. I was asking about Volde-"

"Don't say it." Seamus said quickly. "Sorry, I just hate the sound of his namemore specifically, I hate what it does to people."

"Then learn to say it!" Ron said in annoyance. "It's just a name, for God's sake! Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort! See - no strike of lightening to finish me off, no veela come to drag me off by my ears!"

Seamus looked shaken. Dean looked stunned. And the rest of the class, Harry noticed, had turned around to stare at them, Trelawney included. "Finnigan, Thomas - if you'd kindly return to your table." She swept over to Harry's side. He cringed, waiting for her usual tragedy-filled commentary. Surprisingly, she made none. "I would suggest you finish your interpretation, dear - this seems to have significant meaning for you." Then she swept away, joining Neville and Hannah Abbott's table.

Harry and Ron both stared incredulously after her. They had never seen Trelawney give up a chance to predict Harry's imminent death and suffering. "Right," Harry said finally. "Let's see - the Devil card is the focus. That means," he rifled through his book, "many evils, dangers, and negative influences. It signals the presence of enemies, and warns of danger." Harry rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

"So what's influencing the present focus - aka the Big Bad?" Ron asked.

"Um, Wheel of Fortune - represents the workings of destiny through the cycles of change." Harry snorted. "Otherwise known as a game show that involves the hugging total strangers and spinning letters."

"A what?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Never mind." Harry said quickly. He read on. "The Wheel of Fortune indicates that a change is coming up, and that the matter in question may play a role in your larger destiny." He dropped his voice, so only Ron could hear this last bit. "One of the things this card may promise is a second chance. This is because the Wheel is concerned with the cyclical progress of life, and the idea that we repeatedly come around to the same point."

"Who's second chance, though?" Ron asked urgently. "Voldemort's or yours?"

Harry looked at the third card - the other major influence. "The ten of Swords", he read "stands for cyclical patterns of conflict, as well as the maturity to face them. Among its lessons is that History repeats itself. Tens can represent times when the life cycle of an individual or individual family interact with the cycles of history and the world." He looked at his significator card, and swallowed. "What, so I'm charging off to meet Voldemort in a recurring cycle? No thanks."

"You have though." Ron said quietly. "I think it means that your destiny is to stop the cycle, Harry. Otherwise you'll keep banging out to meet him with your face shield up." 

Neither said anything for a long time. As Ron scooped up the cards, and began to shuffle for his own reading, Professor Trelawney called to Harry. "Mr. Potter - if I could see you for a moment."

Heart sinking, he went to her desk. Was she going to tell him that the cards meant he was going to die - again? Her glasses reflected his image back at himself, and he waited. 

"A three card reading with two major Arcana is rare, my dear. The Major Arcana only represent thirty percent of the deck, so when any reading is more then thirty percent in Major Arcana, it means that there are great spiritual and psychological issues at stake." Her bangles glittered in the firelight. "And for you to have pulled such a telling three card read indicates to me that you were quite focused on receiving an answer."

Harry didn't speak. This was the most bizarre conversation he'd ever had with Trelawney. "This is the most promise I have seen out of you yet, my dear. I always suspected, of course, but now.you are showing true signs of The Sight."

"I just pulled some cards," Harry muttered.

"Take these." Trelawney handed him another deck of cards in a small black silk bag. "I want you to practice with them, get to know them, let them attach themselves to your inner Eye. In a few weeks, we'll see if you were 'just pulling cards'." She raised her voice very slightly. "That's enough for today, my dears. Until we meet again, may fair fortune be yours."

After they descended the stairs from the trap door that led to Trelawney's classroom, Ron turned to look at Harry. "What'd she want?"

"To give me these." Harry said wearily, indicating the Tarot. "She think my reading was real - wants me to practice."

"That was some reading, Harry. First thing we've ever done in that room that didn't reek of her winding us up." 

Harry couldn't argue with that. Normally he and Ron agreed that Trelawney was a fraud. Harry had only ever seen her give one remotely divine reading - the night she predicted that Wormtail would return to Voldemort. But this - this was Harry doing the predictions. "Maybe my inner eye just decided to come out and play for a bit," he said lightly. "Come on - we'll be late for Velange."

Professor Velange's classroom was on the second floor. As they got close to the classroom, they spied Hermione waiting for them impatiently. "Come on!" she hissed. "We're the last ones in."

Sure enough, the class had arrived early. By the looks of it, the boys of the class had arrived first. Smiling knowingly, Harry followed Ron and Hermione back to a table in the corner, shoving the Tarot cards deep into his book bag.

Two familiar voices sounded out in the hallway, making the class turn to listen.

"Thank you for the tea, Severus. I'd forgotten how dusty the classrooms were. Would have been a shame to lose my voice on the first day."

"You shouldn't talk too much, Lena - you know you're still getting adjusted." Snape's voice sounded - well, very different then his usual sneer. _Was this how he sounded away from the classroom?_ Harry wondered. This sounded almost courtly, as if he were truly concerned about Velange's voice. 

"The more I use my voice the stronger it gets, Severus. Don't worry. I'm pacing myself."

"I'll see you at lunch, then. Have a good class." Professor Velange entered their classroom and gave them all a welcoming smile. Dean and Seamus, he noticed, appeared to be holding their breath.

"Good morning." The sound of Velange's voice never failed to send a slight shiver down Harry's spine. It reminded him of hot cocoa on a cold day, or lying in the sun in late afternoon. "I am Professor Velange. Before we get started on our lesson, I thought we'd all introduce ourselves. Tell me your name, your House, and" she looked thoughtful for a moment, "why you think wizards use the Dark Arts."

This was an odd statement. Harry saw a few puzzled looks, but still everyone seemed willing to give it a go. The first to stand up was Justin Finch-Fletchley. "Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff. Wizards use the Dark Arts to attempt to control fate to their own liking."

"Ernie Macmillan, Hufflepuff. Wizards use the Dark Arts when they're desperate to control a situation."

"Parvati Patil, Gryffindor. Wizards use the Dark Arts when they run out of options."

"Lavender Brown, Gryffindor. Wizards use Dark Arts because they enjoy feeling powerful."

When Hermione's turn came, she stood and said "Hermione Granger, Gryffindor. Wizards resort to the Dark Arts because they feel using them makes others weak by comparison." Velange said nothing, but Harry saw her eyebrow raise.

"Ron Weasley, Gryffindor. Wizards use the Dark Arts because they're cowards." Ron said vehemently.

"Harry Potter, Gryffindor. "Wizards use the Dark Arts because they can no longer tell the difference between good and evil. They just see the power it holds."

"Excellent." Velange had been making notes on the blackboard. After Harry finished speaking, she pointed at the list she'd made. It read:

__

Power

Controlling Fate

Controlling Situations

Makes others appear weak

No difference between Good and Evil

"Can you think of any one concept that could be described by these terms?" she asked. "Neville?"

Neville Longbottom looked up from his notes, his face set. "A god." He said softly.

There was a long silence. Velange appeared to be waiting. "Someone who thinks they're a god." Neville clarified.

"Exactly. Those who practice the Dark Arts think they're above the mores of our society. They feel those who don't take advantage of the powers afforded to us as a wizard society are soft. There's just one problem with this mode of thought. Can anyone spot it?"

"They're just mortals." Parvati answered. 

"Correct. Mortals who will have to answer to some sort of moral code at some point in their life." She waved her hand and the words erased themselves from the blackboard. "Even Voldemort had to answer to some sort of mortal code.when he tried to kill an innocent child whose mother died to save him." Harry could feel himself going slightly red. Velange didn't seem to want to linger on this topic, however. She'd already moved on and was writing on the board again.

__

Nature vs. Nurture

Facing the class again, she asked, "Anyone care to explain that? Hermione?"

Harry was very thankful that Velange had called Hermione's name - she'd been all but hopping up and down waving her hand as other people answered questions. "It's the fundamental difference between psychology and sociology. What makes us what we are? The genes we inherited from our families or the society that raises us?"

There was comprehension on the faces of students who were Muggle-born, and blank stares on those from wizard families. "Jeans? What have they got to do with anything?" Ron whispered to Hermione.

"Not jeans. Genes."

"Same thing." Ron hissed.

"No, they're not!" Hermione hissed back.

"As Miss Granger so excellently phrased it," Velange said, silencing their argument, "Nature vs. Nurture is a centuries old argument between the fields of Psychology and Sociology. Now, how is it applicable to the wizard world? In every way possible! Wizards pass on traits to their children; they raise them within the mores of their families before sending them to school to learn the accepted traditions and mores of the society that surrounds them. This much we know. What we don't knowwhat the argument is based upon, is what has the greater force on deciding what a person will become. For instance, will a man who is raised by intellectuals become an intellectual himself - even if his natural family is only of average intelligence? And far more importantly in our world, especially today - will a wizard chose to join those who practice the Dark Arts, or is it something they are raised to do. Does society or the individual chose what path that person will lead?"

For the next fifty minutes, one could have heard a pin drop in Velange's classroom as they all silently took notes on the various individual and societal pressures. With five minutes to go, she stopped them and said, "In order for you to understand how important this argument is, you will all do research on either the dark wizard Grindelwald or Voldemort and write an essay on what you feel most influenced them to become followers of the Dark Order - nature or nurture. Twenty-four inches, please and due next Monday. And now," she stood and smiled at them all, "I think you'd better head to the Great Hall for lunch."

As the class spilled out into the hallway, Harry said to Ron and Hermione "I'll catch you up - go ahead." He walked up to Velange's desk and said "Ah, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" Her smile was warm and comforting as she carelessly waved a hand and the blackboard erased itself of her carefully scribed notes.

"Professor...do you believe in, um, Tarot?"

Velange, who was taking a sip of her tea from a large glass, sputtered and set it down. 

"Sorry - I'll take that as a no." Harry said hurriedly. He turned to leave.

"Harry, wait." Velange called after him. "You just took me by surprise. Have a seat." She sat down and gave him a curious look. "Why do you ask?"

Without stopping to think, Harry sat and told her all about what had happened in Trelawney's classroom. "I've never been able to do anything in Divination, and now this." he finished. "I just wish I knew what it meant."

Velange was drumming her fingers lightly against the desk. "You asked me if I believe in Tarot, Harry. The answer is yes. I don't think the cards can be used to divine mystical answers from the spirits, but I do think the subconscious mind is a very powerful entity. I think that in using Tarot cards, you can more easily answer the questions to which you already hold the answers in your mind. The Tarot, due to their symbology, simply make it easier to spot the patterns, and determine the answer that you already know."

"Sort of like a Pensieve." Harry said quietly. 

"In a way." Velange looked worried. "Are you alright, Harry?

"Yeah, I am." Talking to Velange reminded him in many ways of talking to Sirius - she didn't attempt to answer his questions for him, just showed him how to get there. "See you at lunch." Harry said before turning to leave the classroom.

"And Harry," he looked back. "Try not to focus too much on Voldemort - he's not worth the attention."

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, Unregistered, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS. and Princess Fiona.

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	7. Siren's Song Chapter 7

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. (I'd like to add here my sincere request that the report I read about the delaying of book five was a hoax designed to ensure me of having a bad day! Come on, Jo - It's been TWO YEARS!!!! We're all in withdrawal!!!!) My continued thanks and praise for my excellent beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - your feedback is invaluable.

Author's Note: References to Vampires comes from Matthew Bunson's _The Vampire Encyclopedia _(Gramercy Books, Random House Publishing, 2000) And this is another extremely long chapter - consider yourself forewarned.

At lunch, Harry, Hermione and Ron discussed Velange's class. "I think that's the first History of Magic class I haven't fallen asleep in," Ron said incredulously. "Wonder how much of that stuff'll show up on our OWL'sif we get to focus on what we learn this year, I may have a chance. If it's all goblin rebellions, well, let's hope we get points for originality on their names. You know, Bladvack the Brute, Gernon the Greedy," he paused. "Draco the Determined Dung-head."

"You haven't said a word about how much work she assigned." Hermione pointed out. "I guess you really did enjoy it."

"What? Oh, the essay - that shouldn't take long." Ron said dismissively.

"Ron - you normally shriek like a cat stuck in water over any essay longer than twelve inches!" Hermione said accusingly. As Ginny joined them, Hermione asked her "Did you have Velange yet?" 

"No, we have her this afternoon," Ginny answered. "Why?"

"She's fabulous," Ron said eagerly.

"She's very good," Hermione said diplomatically. "And I think we'll learn a lot - that is, if the boys in our class actually manage to pay attention to what Velange is saying instead of what she's wearing."

"Jealous, are we?" Ron asked, smirking. "Unlike that prat Lockhart, this one's good looking AND smart." Hermione chose to ignore this. 

"Don't fret, 'Mione. Yeah, she's pretty but you get used to that," Harry told her. "I think you'll really like her."

"Oh, I do," Hermione said slowly. "And I think what she's teaching is really useful. I guess I just don't trust new teachers much."

None of them commented. Hermione had a point, Harry thought. None of their new teachers, except Lupin, had ever been worth much. And none of their new teachers, except Lupin and Moody, had ever entranced a class as much as Velange had. 

"Care of Magic Creatures this afternoon." Hermione said, checking her schedule. "Wonder what Hagrid will have us caring for now."

"Vampires?" Ron said, a note of hope in his voice. "Ones who have a preference for snacking on Slytherins?"

Giving Ron a "that's not funny" look, Hermione focused on her lunch of shepherd's pie. "Her eyes don't match," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Whose?" Harry asked. "Velange's? What are you talking about, they're exactly the same colour."

"No, not like that. Her eyes, they look-" she struggled to find the word. "Old. Older then Dumbledore's. Ancient, even. Like they've seen a lot."

"Maybe she has." Harry said. "After all, she's about the same age as Snuffles. Maybe she's lost a lot of friends."

Hermione sighed. "I supposed so."

"She really gets to you, doesn't she, Hermione?" Ginny asked, looking concerned.

"No, it's justsomething about her. It just doesn't fit." Hermione shook her head, and changed the subject. "What do you think Moody's going to be like?"

"We'll find out soon enough." Ron answered. "Defense Against the Dark Arts is right after Care of Magical Creatures." He grinned. "Think this Moody will turn Malfoy into a ferret again?"

Care of Magical Creatures was held out on the grounds by Hagrid's cabin. When the three of them arrived, they saw Hagrid standing out by the paddock. Last time he'd taught a class there, it had been on unicorns. The time before that had been hippogriffs, so they had a fifty-fifty chance the class would focus on something lethal.

"Hullo." Hagrid said, beaming at them. "How's yer firs' day back been?"

"Oh, it's been wonderful!" Hermione answered. "What are we covering today, Hagrid?"

"Kammels." Hagrid replied.

"Come again?" Ron asked.

"Kammels. Found 'em while I was travelling this summer. Big help, they were. Best we wait 'till the Slytherins get here."

They didn't have to wait long. Draco Malfoy at the lead, the group walked up to the paddock a few minutes later. "How's the extra project from Velange going, Draco?" Hermione said with a sweet smile.

Draco just glared. "Bitch," he mouthed back at her. 

"Now tha' yer all here," Hagrid said loudly, distracting Ron and Harry, who had started for Malfoy, "yer first lesson this year is on Kammels." He pulled open the crate next to him, and held aloft a very tiny - cat?

There was a chorus of "Awww's" from the girls, and Harry couldn't help but grin. The Kammel was barely larger then his own hand, and in Hagrid's dustbin lid sized hands it looked positively miniscule.

"Kammels are also known as star cats. Full grown, they don't weigh more 'an eight pounds. Powerful magic, they are. People keep 'em as pets, in the mountains. Bet'er then guard dogs, 'cause they sense magic. Most particularly, they can sense Dark Magic, and if a Dark wizard is comin' they raise an awful fuss." The Kammel, which was covered in dark brown glossy fur, curled up in Hagrid's hand and went straight to sleep.

"Kammels live up ter fifty years, so they make good pets. They don' like too much noise though, so I doubt we'll see 'em for sale in Diagon Alley anytime soon. But Hogwarts isn't too noisy, so I thought we could raise 'em here. Dumbledore agreed - thought they'd come in handy, 'specially now. Everyone, gather round - split into 6 teams - there's one for each team." 

Hermione went and claimed the trios' Kammel. It was incredibly tiny, and gazed at them trustingly, its paw crooked around Hermione's finger. It made a funny sound, not a purring noise but more of a soft whistle.

"Kammels aren't cats, so don't try 'em on cat food. They won't like it. They like dragon liver and yoghurt. The families I met this summer kept 'em mostly on yoghurtdragon liver's a bit too dear for everyday. I've got enough yoghurt for 'em all, just drop a bit in these bowls."

The Kammels certainly did like yoghurt. As soon as they smelled it, they raised their heads and made a yowling sound, which reminded Harry a bit of the musical orchestra at Nearly-Headless Nick's deathday party.

"Bloody hell, make that racket stop!" Draco groaned. "Eat already." He glared at his Kammel, who obligingly buried its head in the yoghurt, and was silent.

"Yeah, that's what they sound like when they sense Dark Magic too." Hagrid continued, scratching his hairy chin unconcernedly.

"Do they do anything besides eat and yowl?" Draco asked coldly.

As if in answer, Draco's Kammel went rigid. Its hair began to stand up as it made its horrible yowling screech. Pansy Parkinson squealed as the Kammel began to grow. Before their astonished eyes, it quickly became the size of a small tiger, its claws' razor sharp, and its eyes menacing.

"One o' these days, Malfoy, yer gonna get yourself killed by askin' such a stupid question in front of these creatures!" Hagrid roared, placing himself quickly between the hissing Kammel and Draco. He began moving slowly towards the creature, making soothing noises. The Kammel seemed reluctant to take its eyes off Draco, who had gone very white.

"Hermione - help me!'" Hagrid ordered. "You'll take his left, and I'll take his righ'!"

Hermione walked slowly towards the Kammel. She didn't appear to be blinking, just making some soft noises under her breath as she drew nearer. The Kammel finally took its eyes off of Malfoy, and focused on Hermione instead. With a soft hiss it reduced back to its usual size, and allowed Hermione to pick it up, rubbing its head against her fingers.

"No wonder Dumbledore wanted them - imagine the racket they'd make if Voldemort turned up on the grounds?" Ron whispered.

"Imagine the racket they'd make if we set one loose in the Slytherin common room?" Harry grinned. 

They played with the Kammels once they'd eaten their fill of yoghurt. (The Slytherins, Harry noticed, allowed Pansy and Millicent to do the actual playing - Draco and his cronies kept back several feet.) Harry noticed that theirs had odd gold coloured markings growing in with its fur.

"That's how they get their name - star cats," Hagrid said when Harry asked about it. "Diff'rent constellations - Orion, mostly. Depends on what time of year it was when they were born. Their markin's start showing up when they're aroun' 6 months and are completely grown in by the time they're a year old."

"You're not going to keep them in your house, are you Hagrid?" Hermione asked apprehensively, stroking theirs which she had named "Flibbert". (Neither Ron nor Harry had the heart to ask why she named it something so ridiculous.)

"Nah - built 'em a house behind mine. They'll each have a room, with a blanket and food. The Kammelry is open whenever you want to see one. Best be puttin' 'em away now - nearly time fer the bell." 

"Wouldn't plan on seeing Draco down there anytime soon." Harry said to Hagrid, as Ron snickered.

"Smarmy git," Hagrid growled, while giving the blonde boy a dark look as the Slytherins hurriedly placed their Kammel in its house and headed back up for the castle.

"'Fore I forget, ten points to Gryffindor, Hermione, fer the way you handled that Kammel," Hagrid said. "Now, you'd best be gettin' up to the castle - don't want to be late fer yer' next class."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Ron called over his shoulder, as they began hurrying towards the castle and Defense Against the Dark Arts. "That was pretty harmless," he commented to Harry. "Depressingly so, actually. Pity that Kammel didn't rip Malfoy's fingers off."

Hermione smirked. "I actually had some other parts in mind."

They hurried into Moody's classroom seconds after the bell rang. "You're late," came Moody's growl behind them. "Five points from Gryffindor. We've entirely too much to cover for anyone of us to be waiting around."

Mumbling apologies, they hurried to a table in the front of the class and sat down. Moody shut the door, before turning around to face the class.

"Before we get started, let's get one thing straight," Moody began. "You did not have me for class last year, so everyone in this class starts with a fresh slate. Got it?"

There were mute nods. "Good. Well, from what I can gather, you had a thorough covering on hexes and curses last year, and dark creatures the year before." More silent nods. "For the first term of the year, we're going to focus on what creatures the Dark Order considers its closest allies. Then we'll get into how to battle against them. I think we're all agreed in thinking it may only be a matter of time before we may all be called on to fight such beings, and the sooner you learn about them, the better."

"There are four main creatures that pose the biggest threat to both the Muggle world and our own, and as such are the four most highly sought after for alliances with the Dark Order. Anyone care to hazard a guess at what they are?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air, as usual, and so did Neville's. "Longbottom?" 

"Vampires?" Neville said, his voice a bit timid.

"Good. Another? Weasley?"

"Uh, Dementors?"

"Very good. Brown?"

"Werewolves?"

"Yes. And the last? Potter?"

Harry frowned as he answered "Um, Giants?" He thought of Hagrid, and remembered the way he'd been treated when his half-giant heritage had been exposed in the Daily Prophet last year. And wondered again what exactly he'd spent the summer doing.

"Precisely." Moody wrote them on the board. "Now, how do we combat against these creatures joining the Dark Order?"

There was a long pause, before Hermione raised her hand. "Granger?"

"We make them our allies before Voldemort does the same." Her voice was very clear and sure.

"Exactly. Voldemort is a very big believer in the saying "My enemies' enemy is my friend." Unless we'd like a mess as big as we had fourteen years ago, it's time for the wizarding world to put away old biases and fight with every weapon at our disposal."

"However, not every one of these creatures is going to be convinced that we are the winning side, or even the side they chose to lose on. So it's best if you're prepared by knowing their strengths and weaknesses first."

"Now, I know you covered vampires to some extent with Professor Lupin in third year, but there's still much you need to know. So first a review! What are the ways in which to detect vampire activity?"

They spent the entire class reviewing how to detect vampires, how to kill them, and how to protect themselves. Some of the ways Moody covered on killing vampires made more then one girl blanche ("Extracting the heart and boiling it in either vinegar or wine can be a bit messy but it never fails.") but were nonetheless interesting.

"Now, knowing all of this, why is it that the wizard community hasn't stomped out vampires?" Moody asked, looking around. "No one?"

For once, not one hand was in the air - not even Hermione's. Moody sighed.

"Right. For homework-" Moody ignored the soft groans that followed this statement, "what inducement could we as wizards offer vampires to have them agree to fight alongside us, rather then side with Voldemort? Due next Monday. Now, off you get. Potter, I need a word."

"But Professor," Hermione piped up, "we still have fifteen minutes left."

"Those essays aren't going to be completed by copying a few lines from some book, Granger. I suggest that you all get started unless you plan to spend the whole weekend in the library." Moody growled. Hermione went rather pink.

Harry hefted his book bag up over his shoulder and followed after Moody into his office. As soon as the door was closed, he said in a low voice, "Hermione Granger is the best student in the year, Professor."

"I'm aware of that, Potter. She has enormous potential to whatever she puts that brain of hers to." Moody sat in a chair and gave Harry a cagey look. "Think I was a bit rough on her? On all of you?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"You're not children anymore, Potter. It would be an insult to your intelligence if I were to treat you as such. No, I think it's safe to say that when the battle comes, you and your fellows are our best hope. But you won't be ready if you're coddled. And we need you ready." Moody stared gloomily into the fire, then said "How did your first class go with Professor Velange?"

"Er, all right." Harry wondered where this was going. "She started on nature vs. nurture. We have an essay due next week."

"Smartest curriculum choice Dumbledore could have made, that class. You'll no doubt be swimming in work, but you'll be ready for whatever comes." He focused on Harry then. "So, our lessons - you'll check and let me know when your Quidditch practices are, and we'll schedule them around that." Seeing Harry's shocked expression, he grinned. "I'm not totally heartless, Potter. I know how important Quidditch is to you, and to Hogwarts. Far be it from me to spoil House competition and school morale. You'll let me know by the end of the week?"

"Yes." Harry paused a moment. "Professor, you said half of training against the Dark Arts was in practical lessonswe're not going to have to take on a vampire or anything, are we?"

Moody's mouth twitched. "Hell of an idea, Potter. Like the way your mind thinks. Now we'd better be off for dinner." He stood. "Coming?"

And Harry, completely at a loss for words, followed him to the Great Hall.

"Harry!" Angelina hissed when she saw him. "Team meeting tonight - after dinner in the common room. Ok?"

"Right." Harry slumped at the table, piling mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"Hungry, are we?" Ginny gave him an amused glance.

"Starving." He reached for the chicken, and saw her giving him a sideways glance. Harry's face softened. "Long day," he said softly.

"I know." Her hand under the table gave his knee a gentle squeeze, which almost made him drop the gravy boat. Setting it down, he saw her eyes twinkling. Her eyes, they reminded him of a topaz necklace he'd seen once in Diagon Alley - they way they reflected and caught the light

Harry was so lost in this train of thought that it took him a few minutes to realize that Fred was speaking to him. "First Quidditch match is in four weeks. Given any thought as to who we'll add on as Keeper?"

"Ron," Harry said without hesitation.

"Harry, I've been thinkingit wouldn't hurt for us to add a few reserves this year. I mean, I know it's going to be hard replacing the best Beaters this school has ever had-" this produced a few rolled eyes from the table, "but next year we're going to need two new Chasers as well. Might as well hold a full roster try-out."

Harry, his mouth full of food, realized most of the table was looking at him for comment. Swallowing hastily, he tried to speak but choked and ended up nearly spitting his potatoes onto the table, much to the amusement of the twins. _Yeah, that's the stuff revered Quidditch Captains are made of,_ Harry thought to himself wryly. 

"It's really quite simple, Potter. Chew, then swallow." Draco's voice cut through the air, causing the smiles at the table to vanish. "I can draw you a chart with step by step directions if you prefer."

"You know, Malfoy, for someone who claims to loathe us, you certainly seem to like hanging around the Gryffindor table! Or did you decide you enjoyed having conversations that involved words larger then one syllable, as compared to the clever Troll language your buddies doll out?" Ron snapped.

"Witty, Weasley. Did Granger make that up for you earlier today or did you manage to string that together on the spot?" Draco said smoothly. "Despite the jolly's I get slumming in the Mudblood pit, I'm here to let Potty know that Professor Snape wants to see the both of us after he's done spitting his food all over the Hall." 

At the word "Mudblood" Ron threw down his napkin and started for Malfoy. 

"Ron, _no!" _squealed Hermione, catching him by the arm. Throwing Draco a scornful look, she said loudly enough for half the Hall to hear, "So Malfoy - still having that burning sensation? I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has a cream to help alleviate your symptoms, although I think that rash may be permanent."

That brought a torrent of snickers, and not only from the Gryffindor table. Harry could have sworn he recognized Pansy Parkinson's high-pitched cackle. Were even the Slytherins tired of his attitude?

Malfoy coloured, then said in a low voice, "You sound fairly knowledgeable for someone's who's supposed to still be a virgin, Grangeror did Krum manage to accomplish what Potter and Weasley both fantasize about?"

Angelina stood then, and snapped "Twenty points from Slytherin! Get back to your own table, Malfoy - or I'll add a detention, and piss on your prefect status!"

Malfoy smirked, and added as he turned away "I see I hit a nerve. See you in Snape's office, Potter." His eyes lingered on Hermione. "No wonder you're stuck in Gryffindor - that cherry colour suits you, Granger. You should consider taking out an ad - wanted: experienced male to tackle uptight prude-"

Without warning, the gravy boat on the table flew into the air and landed with a _splat!_ directly on Malfoy's shining silvery-blonde hair. Swearing enough to make the air burn, Malfoy stormed from the hall, the gales of laughter from the Gryffindor table serenading his exit.

"Who did it?" George chortled, as Professor McGonagall swept over to their table looking like a particularly murderous hippogriff. 

"I have never been more shocked by Gryffindors' behavior! Detention for the entire House unless the guilty party confesses _this instant!"_

Ten sets of hands flew into the air. Harry was shocked to see that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, Alicia and Lee had raised their hands along with him. 

There was a strained silence. Harry watched McGonagall's mouth twitch suspiciously, as though she was fighting not to smile. "As upperclassmen you are responsible for modeling the behavior of the entire house. You should be ashamed of yourselves, you should be setting an example - especially you three!" Her steely gaze focused on Harry and Hermione before moving on to Angelina. "Fifty points from Gryffindor - and if I catch wind of any other unauthorized magic from you lot, I will make it an even hundred!" She stormed off and returned to the Head table, looking extremely irate.

"Best fifty points we ever lost," Fred said in a low voice. "I'm splitting for the tower, though, before she remembers she already threatened George and I with that exact same thing that earlier today."

"See you," George said cheerily, and he, Lee, Angelina and Fred left, looking as though they found the whole incident hilarious. 

"_Fifty points _!" Hermione squeaked. "How are we supposed to make that up?"

"Be glad it's that and not detention on Saturday night," Ron said. "I'd hate to miss our first Hogsmeade visit."

"What are you on about?" Harry frowned. "First Hogsmeade visit isn't until Halloween."

"Not for fifth years and above, its not," Ron said, grinning. "We're allowed to visit every weekend if we choose todidn't anyone tell you?"

"No," said Harry slowly. "It never came up." To be honest, he'd focused his mind elsewhere, not on the events of the upcoming school year.

"There's traditionally a big party at the Hog's Head first Saturday night of the term that the seventh years throw for the fifth years and above. Supposed to be a big secret, but all the teachers know," Ron continued. "That's probably why we didn't get detentionMcGonagall didn't feel up to dealing with Fred and George's wrath this early in the year."

The thought of Fred and George throwing a party made Harry grin. He was thinking about what kind of new joke they might be springing on their captive audience that weekend as he made his way out of the Great Hall and down the stairs to Snape's dungeon offices. Malfoy was already there, looking downright sulky, when Harry arrived.

Snape gave Harry a scathing look and said without preamble, "The potion you want to work on is highly complex, Potter, and as I have no wish to be blamed for your unfortunate demise," Snape's lip curled as he spoke, "I have requested that Mr. Malfoy assist you."

"What?" Harry stared at Snape. "But Professor, I don't think-"

"I couldn't have put it any better, Potter." Malfoy's drawl singed the air. "Actually, I could have. 'Chewing and swallowing are advanced skills for Potter - it'll take years of practice to reach the level of actual thought."

"Enough!" Snape snapped. "Malfoy is the best Potions student in the year, and the only one I would trust to work on such an advanced project. However, the idea was yours, therefore you will work together and he will attempt to keep you from destroying my classroom. End of discussion." Snape's eyes glinted dangerously as both boys opened their mouths in protest. "You will both hand in written summaries of your project weekly, due to me each Friday. The days you choose to work on this are at your discretion, but I would recommend a minimum of two nights each week. I realize this will cut into your Quidditch practice time, but we all have to make sacrifices. Now, I suggest you both remove yourselves from my sight."

The two boys were silent as they exited the classroom, but the second they were out of Snape's earshot, Malfoy rounded on Harry.

"Decided being Dumbledore's favourite boy wasn't good enough, Potter? Snape's the only teacher with eyes in his head, you know, and he can see right through you. If you were planning on using this little experiment to butter him up, save us both the time and give up now - I have enough to do this year without holding your hand through after-hour Potions projects."

"You think working with you was my idea?" Harry asked hotly. "I'd sooner snog Millicent Bulstrode."

"I can arrange that." Draco retorted.

Harry was fuming. Two nights a week working in the dark, smelly Potions dungeon would be bad enough, but with Malfoy sneering at his elbow it would be pure torture. Still, he wasn't giving up the thought of perfecting the Impenetrable Potion. He needed to have that in his arsenal.

"Just stay out of my way, Malfoy, and you'll have both hands free to while away the hoursjust don't do it in front of me." With that, Harry turned and headed up the stairs and back towards Gryffindor Tower.

As he entered the common room, he caught sight of the entire Quidditch team waiting for him at the far end. They all grinned as Harry scrambled over to meet them.

"'Bout time you got here. We were starting to wonder if you'd run off with Mrs. Norris." George's eyes were dancing.

"What did I miss?" Harry asked, throwing himself into a chair.

"Just that you're captain by acclamation," Katie shrugged, trying not to laugh. 

"Nothing big," Fred said, looking equally amused.

"You're joking." Harry said, looking from one beaming face to the next.

"Not on something like this, we're not," Angelina promised, then swooped down to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Congratulations!"

With that, the entire team let out a whoop of laughter at the look on Harry's face. As heads turned, George yelled loud enough for the entire tower to hear, "Harry Potter's your new Quidditch team captain. Quit with the studying already - we need to celebrate!"

Pandemonium broke out as the entire tower began applauding and shouting their approval. From out of nowhere, bottles of butterbeer appeared on tables surrounded by heaps of candy and stacks of Cauldron Cakes. Harry found himself being kissed by Alicia and Katie, while Fred and George slapped him on the back and called for a speech.

"Umm." His voice cracked a bit as he realized that every eye in the room was on him. _Get a grip!_ He told himself firmly._ This is Quidditch we're talking about - not the Nobel Prize. _But seeing the glowing look Ginny was sending him did nothing to calm the squirming in his stomach. "Quidditch tryouts will be Wednesday and Thursday night!" Harry finally managed to get out. "We need a new Keeper, and we'll be looking for reserve players for the positions of Chaser and Beater. " He managed a weak grin. "We're looking to bring home the Cup again, so no pressure." There was a buzz of excited chatter as people's attention mercifully shifted to the party and off of Harry.

"Need to work on that public speaking bit, Harry." George snickered as he reached for a butterbeer. "I've heard more inspiring speeches from the house elves."

Harry shrugged. "You didn't elect me for my wit and charm."

"Congratulations, Harry!" squealed Parvati, reaching up and kissing his cheek. Lavender Brown was giving Harry a very thorough once-over with her eyes. The whole thing was making Harry very uncomfortable. "Thanks," he muttered, his cheeks red as he made his way over to where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were standing.

"I told you!" Ron crowed as soon as Harry was in earshot. "I told you they were electing you as captain, Harry!"

"Congratulations!" Ginny beamed at him.

"What did Snape want?" Hermione asked, while Ron rolled his eyes.

"Hermione - Harry just got named Quidditch captain and you want to talk about _Snape_?"

"It's ok," Harry said quickly, glad to be able to talk about something else. He told them about how Snape had assigned the Impenetrable Potion to both him and Malfoy. Ron's mouth made a perfect "o" as he tried to find the words to express his outrage. "That prat," he said finally. "That slimy, greasy, horrid, evil bastard -"

"Gold star for imagery, Ron," Hermione interrupted. "But Snape's got a point - Malfoy _is_ his best Potions student."

"In your year, maybe," Ginny said archly.

"Whatever," Ron yawned. "Snape's still working his way into Hell's inner circle by making Harry work with him. What are you going to do?" he asked Harry.

"Work with him, I guess. That potion's important," Harry said shortly. "We'll need it - I'm sure of it."

Harry's gloom over working with Malfoy overshadowed the happiness he felt about being named Quidditch captain. Mumbling about his essay for Moody, he made his way upstairs to the dorm room.

Reaching for his diary, his hand began writing as fast as the thoughts poured into his brain.

__

Quidditch captain. They named me Quidditch captain. Just as they named my father prefect and Quidditch captainVelange could have a field day with this. Nature vs. nurture, the son trying to fill the father's shoes. I should be ecstatic, and yet I'm not. I want it, and yet I don't. 

I can't handle the distraction. I need to focus on the issue at handVoldemort. Why haven't we heard anything? What is he doing? Or am I giving him more attention then he deserves?

Harry already knew the answer to that. Too many people had died for Voldemort not to get his full attention. He heard Cedric's voice in his head, asking for Harry to take his body back to his parents. 

__

Cedric's dead and I'm alive and I owe him - owe his parents - nothing should interfere! But what can I do, really? A fifteen year old wizard versus the strongest Dark wizard of the age? I hate this waiting! It's worse then waiting to take on the Horntail - at least then you knew what you were going to face. All I know now is that Voldemort has his body back, and that he's determined to destroy everything I know and love. 

Ginny's smiling face flashed through his mind, and his hand froze for a second, then wrote:

__

Ginny Weasley is my best friend's sister. Her family is my family. I shouldn't be thinking about kissing her again. Especially when I still don't know how I feel about Ron and Hermione

Why didn't Hermione tell Ron about ending it with Krum? What does that mean? And what did she and Ron do last night? Kiss? Something else? And if they did, now what - they're a couple? And if they are, what does that mean - where do I fit in that? I want to be happy for Ron and Hermione, but at the same time I wish we could just stay as we arefriends. Uncomplicated, no-one-is-left-out, friends.

His hand was shaking as he wrote that last bit. Staring at the words, he added:

__

Some first day back.

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, Unregistered, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, and padfoot1979.

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!

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	8. Siren's Song Chapter 8

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. (I'd like to add here my sincere request that the report I read about the delaying of book five was a hoax designed to ensure me of having a bad day! Come on, Jo - It's been TWO YEARS!!!! We're all in withdrawal!!!!) To my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - my eternal thanks and praise.

Author's Note: I drew heavily on Rowling's _Quidditch Though the Ages_ for the Quidditch scenes. At this point all four books plus the two aids (QTTA and FB) are permanently stacked up next to the computer along with every book on wicca I own. Not being as wildly creative as Rowling, I have had to refer to more traditional Wicca spells, such as glamours. For anyone who this offends, accept my apologies in advance. Also, I decided to make Blaise Zabini a girl - specifically the girl at the Slytherin table that you see Draco speaking with in the movie when Quirrell comes bursting into the Hall on Halloween. (Artistic license is a beautiful thing)

Two bright spots kept Harry moving through the rest of the week: Quidditch try-outs and the party that Saturday night in Hogsmeade. Without the hope that these provided, he very much doubted whether he would have survived his first week back at school without a visit to Dumbledore for attempting to curse the Slytherins out of existence.

All of the fifth years had noticed a significant increase of workload this year, but in addition to that the number of _classes_ they had was mind-boggling. Up until now, they had been limited to five and a half hours of class a day. Now their schedules started 30 minutes earlier and allowed only 30 minutes for lunch, relegating them to 7 hours of classes a day, with their only breaks being a full hour lunch on Friday and the last hour and a half free on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays.

"I suppose they think this is the best way to get us ready for our O.W.L.'s," Hermione said thoughtfully Wednesday morning over breakfast.

"What, trying to see if any of us will jump from the roof of North Tower?" groused Ron. 

Harry was picking at his sausages, too tired to comment. Tuesday and Thursday nights involved Astronomy lab from 11 to midnight, and his arms were covered with pinch marks from where he'd been fighting to stay awake.

"Harry," said Ginny softly in his ear. "Try some Pepper-up in your tea - you won't be able to get through tryouts tonight if you're falling off your broom."

"I suppose not," he yawned, taking the bottle from her. Their hands brushed, and Harry felt instantly awake. Her hands felt very soft, and somewhat chilled but that wasn't what had woken him up. It had been the undeniable spark he'd felt.

"How did you two manage?" he asked Fred and George, who looked annoyingly awake, despite the fact that as 7th years, their schedules mirrored the 5th years, owing to their need to prepare for the N.E.W.T.'s.

"Glamour spell - made us look awake in class when we were actually napping," George replied, grinning.

"But we don't cover glamours until 6th year," Hermione said, frowning.

"You're not the only one who knows how to use the library, Hermione. Madam Pince nearly fainted when she saw us there, but then it was one of the few rooms in the castle we'd never seen." Fred's eyes danced. "We also discovered the benefits of coffee...tea wasn't quite cutting it." He lowered his voice. "Any of you nabbed dates for this weekend yet?"

"What?" Harry said, so startled he choked on his tea.

"You know Harry, I'm starting to think that chart Malfoy talked about may not be such a bad idea!" Lee Jordan snickered. "Eliminates the guess work out of eating and drinking."

Smiling wanly, Harry asked Fred "What dates?" as he mopped up the spilled tea.

"For the party, you prat." George now looked thoroughly amused. "There's going to be dancing, you know. That skill you demonstrated for us so well last year. Unless you want to start a whole new trend in solitary socializing, mate, I'd suggest you land a date - soon."

Harry saw Ginny's cheeks flush as she scrambled to her feet. "See you at lunch!" she chirped, and sped out of the Great Hall.

"What was that about?" he whispered to Hermione.

"The party's for 5th years and up, Harry." She gave him a significant look.

"Oh." Feeling more tired then ever, Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Who are you going with?" he asked.

But exactly whom Hermione was going with, Harry didn't get a chance to find out. Cho Chang suddenly appeared at their table. Harry goggled at her. They hadn't spoken since before the Third task last year. She was as pretty as ever, but somehow the sight of her no longer sent his stomach into knots. 

"Harry - could I have a word with you? In private?"

"Sure." Harry stood up quickly, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the twins, who were making suggestive noises and howling at their own entertainment. Hermione, he noticed, looked less then pleased.

Following Cho outside the Great Hall, he said curiously, "What's up?"

"Well, as you've probably heard, this Saturday night's the Seges party"

"Oh, that. Yeah, I heard - I didn't know what it was called, but"

"And I was wondering if you would go with me?"

"Come again?" Harry stared at her.

"I asked if you would like to go with me?" Cho flushed as she said this, but didn't look away.

"Um, sure." Harry hoped his voice sounded natural. "Yeah, sounds great."

"Great." Cho smiled. "So I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall around 7?"

"Um, sure." _Didn't I just say that_? Harry wondered frantically.

"Bye then. See you Saturday." Cho reached up to kiss his cheek before heading up the stone stairs.

Harry gawked after her, then remembered he'd left his book bag in the Great Hall. Wishing he were in his invisibility cloak, he slunk back to the table to collect his books.

"What'd she want?" Ron asked promptly.

"Asked me to the Seges party," Harry said in a low voice. 

"You're kidding!" Ron's eyes were wide. "I heard she still misses Cedric."

"Maybe that's why she's going with me," Harry said uncomfortably. "Figures I'm hardly a threat, since there's no way I'd ever put the moves on her. Not now."

Hermione didn't say anything, but her expression was very grave. "I'll see you in History," she said to Ron, standing and picking up her own backpack. "Harry, I just remembered McGonagall wanted to see us in her office before class started."

"Oh." Surprised, Harry hefted his bag, called a quick "See you!" to Ron and followed Hermione out into the hallway.

"What did McGonagall want?" Harry asked the second they left the noisy hall.

"She didn't - we need to talk," Hermione said shortly. She pushed him into an empty classroom and shut the door behind her. "I can't believe you're going with Cho." Hermione looked surprisingly angry.

"Why not?" Harry was taken aback.

"You know what hell you put Ginny through last year, mooning around after Cho! And now that you're finally acting as though you've realized that Ginny's worth your notice, you're going to the Seges with someone else - I swear I don't understand what's going through that head of yours!" Hermione yelled.

"Excuse me, but I believe you're the one who pointed out I can't go with Ginny," Harry snapped back. "And as long as we're on the subject, who are you going with?"

Hermione looked temporarily deflated. "I hadn't planned on going with anyone - I thought the three of us-"

"No, Hermione - that's not how this works." Harry said hotly. "It's called a date, and I believe that any more then two counts as a crowd. I'm sure Ron-" he stopped short at the look on her face. "What?"

"Oh, Harry." Hermione said in a miserable whisper, before throwing her arms around his neck and holding him tightly. "That's just it - I don't know what to do about us." Her voice was muffled against his chest.

"What us?" Harry asked the top of her head - she seemed unwilling to let him go so he could look her in the eyes.

"The three of us." Gasping a little, Hermione stepped back, looking miserable. "I don't know how I feel about Ron. Or you. Or any of it." She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, and gave him a tremulous smile. "This is so hard."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you tell Ron about breaking up with Krum?"

"Because I needed time to figure out who and what I want." Her voice was very soft. "I know how I felt. But now everything's kind of confused."

Harry took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "I haven't said anything about you and Krum to Ron. And I won't. But Hermione - if you want him, don't wait around. Life's too short."

"Talk about pot calling kettle" Hermione started, but Harry interrupted her.

"I mean itdon't worry about what happens to us. We'll be fine." His voice was thick as he said this, but he meant every word. _This was what Sirius meant by sacrifices,_ Harry thought to himself. Hermione was incapable of hiding her feelings on anything, and everything she felt for Ron was clearly written on her face. 

"I'm going to be late for Trelawney," Harry said, filling the silence. "I'll see you in History." Hesitating, he bent and kissed her cheek. "And don't worry about GinnyCho and I are going as friends, nothing more." She nodded mutely, and he saw himself out of the room.

As he hurried up the tower stairs towards Trelawney's classroom, Harry's head was spinning. All three of them were thinking the same thing: if Ron and Hermione became a couple, what would that do to their friendship? Nothing would be the same, and they all recognized that fact. And if no one acted, they risked an even greater chance of hurting each other, he realized. Neither Hermione nor Ron would wait on one another forever.

It was time for drastic action, Harry realized. Slipping into the seat next to Ron, he whispered "When are you asking her?"

"What?" Ron asked blankly, before blushing. "I don't know. The whole thing's getting too complicated."

"Ask her, Ron, before someone else does and you'll be exactly where you were last year," Harry said urgently. "You do want to take her, don't you?"

"Of course!" Ron whispered back. "But Harry, we talked about this, it's not that simple!"

"Yes, it is. Just do it." As Trelawney's eyes settled on their table, Harry hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "Do I or I'll do it for you." Then he pretended to focus on what Trelawney was saying.

After dinner that night, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the rest of the team headed down to the Quidditch field. The news that Gryffindor was seeking reserve players had run through the school like wildfire, and even Harry was startled at the large crowd gathered there. He quickly realized that not everyone there was supporting the new candidates. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were also watching, no doubt hoping to get a pre-season look at the team to beat. _Take a big steamy look, Malfoy, 'cause that Cup belongs to us._

Realizing that all eyes were on him, Harry spoke. "Ok, everyone interested in trying out, stay on the field - anyone here to watch, please move to the stands." As approximately half the crowd began drifting towards their seats, Harry focused on the small crowd of eager faces in front of him. 

"As you know, Gryffindor House is the reigning Quidditch Cup champion. We're looking for a few people to help us keep that tradition going." Applause met these words, along with a few catcalls from the Slytherins. Harry ignored them.

"I need you to split up into the following groups: Keepers, line up here with me; Beaters if you would please stand next to the Weasley twins; and Chasers, if you would join Angelina, Katie and Alicia. We'll be running you through some basic exercises, before going to actual tryouts." Within a few minutes, everyone was sorted out. Besides Ron there were three others trying out for Keeper. He recognized one second year, Natalie McDonald, one fourth year, Owen Reed and Michael O'Toole, the first year he had watched being sorted. Glancing over at the twins, he grinned when he realized that the Creevey boys were among those interested in becoming Beaters. And felt his jaw drop when he realized that _Ginny Weasley_ was among those trying out for Chaser. 

He punched Ron. "Did you know about that?" he asked, nodding over towards Ginny.

Ron looked over, and appeared non-plussed. "What of it? Oh, you've never seen her play, have you? She's pretty good." 

"It's just that Chaser's kind of, you know, an aggressive position," Harry muttered.

"Relax - just watch. If you don't think she can handle it, then don't pick her," Ron said shortly. "We getting started?"

Surprised by Ron's attitude, Harry nodded and had them all mount their brooms. The field was quite crowded, but the experienced team members helped keep it all under control. Harry was throwing Quaffles as hard as he could past the prospective Keepers. Ron was undoubtedly the best of the lot, although Harry couldn't help but be surprised by Michael O'Toole, who only let two shots get past him.

"Ok!" Harry yelled, after approximately 20 minutes. "Let's split up into teams and run a scrimmage."

"A what?" George asked.

"Practice run." Harry clarified. 

"Gotcha." Ron was paired up with Meghan O'Toole and another Chaser candidate that Harry didn't recognize, with the Creevey twins as Beaters. Ginny, he saw, had been matched up with another fourth year, Ashleigh Mahdavi, with Michael O'Toole as Keeper, and Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan on Beater.

"Go!" yelled Angelina, throwing the Quaffle up into the air. 

Ron hadn't been joking - Ginny was good. She swerved nimbly out of the way of the Bludger that Colin Creevey had belted in her direction and began a swift passing game with Ashleigh all the way up the field. Without warning, however, he saw her duck out of the way of another Bludger and lose the Quaffle to Meghan O'Toole. The younger girl sped up the field, almost bowling over her partner in her haste to get to the goal. Despite her best efforts, her twin blocked the shot and passed the ball back up the field to Ginny, who retaliated by attempting to score on Ron twice in two minutes.

Twenty minutes later, the score was still zero-zero, although it wasn't for lack of trying on either team's part. Ginny and Meghan were clearly the most skilled Chasers, and each unsuccessful drive up the field was leading them to do more and more outrageous stunts in an attempt to score. Ginny's perfect Reverse pass was countered by Meghan's Porskoff Ploy. Ron, not wishing to be outdone, resorted to a Starfish and Stick to block Ginny, which resulted in excited whoops of support from the twins.

The sun was starting to set when Harry called for a time out. The score was still zero-zero and both sides looked exhausted. "All I can say is 'Wow'!" Harry told the excited but worn group of hopefuls. "Same time tomorrow? Hit the showers and try and get some sleep - you've earned it." They all grinned wearily at him, and slowly the group began winding their way up towards the castle. 

Not even the sound of the Slytherins jeers could distract Harry. "They all looked really good, didn't they?" he asked the rest of the team excitedly.

"Beyond good," Fred boasted.

"Never would have thought the Creevey's had it in them," George said, shaking his head and looking impressed.

"You were really great, Ron!" Hermione beamed at him.

"Thanks. Urm, could I have a word?" Ron didn't wait for an answer, just took Hermione's hand and pulled her a little away from the group.

"Shouldn't you wait 'till you're cleaned up a bit, Romeo?" yelled Lee Jordan after him. "You know, Harry, I've been thinking - you're not having anyone try out for Seeker?"

Harry hadn't even thought about that. "Well, I wasn't really planning on going anywhere" he said slowly. For some reason, the thought of replacing himself was not a comfortable one. "But I don't see why we shouldn't hold tryouts. We'll add that for Thursday. Spread the word?"

"Count on it." Lee grinned at him. He slid an arm around Alicia's waist and whispered in her ear, making her giggle. "Toodles," she called back as they walked off together.

Harry was watching them go, his mind on Ginny and how it would feel to be that comfortable with her, when the sound of angry voices behind him made him turn.

He recognized the sound of Ron bellowing and Malfoy's drawling sneer and he sped over the hill, coming to a stop beside Ron. Hermione had a firm hand on his arm, and Blaise appeared to be doing likewise with Draco, although while Hermione looked simply furious, Blaise simply looked amused.

"Oh, yes - Heaven forbid we should have a good knockdown between Wesley and Draco without the Golden Boy making an appearance." Blaise's crystal blue eyes glinted in the red-gold light from the setting sun, setting her pale blond hair on fire. Harry had to admit she was striking, in an over-polished sort of way.

"What happened?" Harry asked Hermione - Ron and Draco were still too busy looking daggers at one another.

"Nothing," Hermione said instantly. "Come on, Ron." When Ron seemed loathe to move, she stomped on his foot. "He's not worth it!" she hissed. "Move. Now!" As if following orders against his will, Ron slowly headed for the castle, his lips white with rage.

"What the hell happened?" Harry asked in an urgent voice. He'd only ever seen Ron that angry one other time - when Draco had unintentionally given Hermione a pair of oversized fangs outside the Potions room last year. 

"Malfoy saw us." Hermione said in a low voice. "Talking about the Seges."

"And he asked her to go with him and Blaise." Ron said in a choked voice. "Said he figured her for being into threesomes, and that at least this way she would have a good time out of it, rather then be bored to death and counting the cracks in the ceiling for entertainment."

Harry's eyes met Ron's. A look of silent understanding passed between them. They were going to make Malfoy _pay_. 

"It's not important," Hermione said quickly. "Just Draco being his usual charming self."

"It _is_ important!" Ron said fiercely. "Why didn't you just let me go flatten that smarmy little git?"

"You really think that will be the end of it?" Harry asked quietly. "You know why he's acting so cocky, don't you?"

"Yeah - 'cause he's got the brains of a Doxy-" Ron started.

"No," Harry interrupted, staring out at the field. "It's because of Voldemort."

There was a long silence before Hermione asked softly, "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry asked bitterly. "His father's right there in Voldemort's circleMalfoy knows what's going to happen, and when, and he's getting his jollies by trying to distract usthinks it'll put him in Voldemort's good graces if we're totally off-guard, more so if he manages to knock any of us off."

"No" Hermione said slowly, "Harry, I know that Draco's awful, but I just can't see him trying to get any of us killed."

"He's evil, Hermione - just like his Dad." Harry stripped up the sleeve of his sweater, throwing the scar on his arm into sharp relief. "Evil enough to make jokes about Cedric's dying, and evil enough to do this." He shook his head slowly. "And it almost worked, you know. I can't not focus on himthe rest of it's all a distraction." _Even Ginny_, he thought silently.

Ron and Hermione were silent. Finally Hermione said, "Come on, Harry - you look dead on your feet." And the three of them made their way back up to the castle, shoulders touching, but completely isolated by their own thoughts.

Thursday's classes were anything but restful. McGonagall had them working on cross-elementary transfiguration, and had given them each a bucket of water that they were to transfigure into fire. Poor Neville had accidentally aimed his efforts at the ceiling of the classroom instead, which had rained steaming hail down on their heads. In Potions, Snape had started the class on Medi-Potions, and the Cranius headache cure. Unfortunately, the Cranius required fresh salamander blood as a core ingredient, meaning that several members of the class were nursing burns as they attempted to capture and drain the fire-loving lizards of their magical blood. After lunch, they worked with Sprout on spreading the freshly-collected droppings of moon calves in greenhouse five, which housed such dangerous plants as Grimassi elms, whose leaves were valuable additions to memory charms but whose smell made unprepared students float around the greenhouse, and the Biting Belladonna, whose venomous leaves were constantly trying to snap at on-lookers. Ron, who had been so busy ducking the Belladonna's violent limbs that he had neglected to pay attention to where he was walking and managed to connect directly with the trunk of a Grimassi, got the worst of it. It had taken the better part of half an hour for Hermione to brew up the antidote and get Ron off the ceiling of the greenhouse, which struck Harry and Hermione as highly entertaining but seemed to greatly annoy Ron.

"Cheer up - at least you won't be floating around the Quidditch field tonight." Harry said encouragingly over dinner.

"Speaking of which, Harry, you'd tell me if you thought I was awful, right?"

"Don't be such a prat," Harry grinned at him. "You were fabulous."

Ron speared a potato, giving it a fierce look. "So was Michael O'Toole," he said in a low voice.

"I don't want to hear it - at least you don't have to find a replacement for yourself tonight." Harry reached for seconds on roast beef. "Good to know we're covering all bases, just in case Voldemort does something really ugly this year-"

__

Crash! Ginny's hand slipped and she managed to drop the jug of pumpkin juice she was passing to Katie Bell. "That's not funny!" she said fiercely.

"Not tryin' to be 'unny - jus' statin' the way thin's are," Harry said through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Yes, well all this quiet is starting to get to me," Hermione said, looking up from where she was re-reading that morning's Daily Prophet. "Not so much as a peep about Voldemort, and for some reason I find that more suspicious then anything."

"It's Fudge," Ron said promptly, his eyes lighting up as he spied the desserts appearing on the table. "He'd rather announce his engagement to a Lethifold then admit that Voldemort's back - he's probably censuring anything even remotely out of the ordinary."

"Yeah, but we're not talking about squashing some stupid rumor - if the Death Eaters are active, there would be witnesses, wouldn't there? You know them, the bigger the show, the better." Harry said in disgust.

Ginny's hand had made its way onto his knee again, and was giving it a squeeze. He looked up, and reached under the table to take her hand in his. They just stared at one another for a long moment, too focused on the feel of their skin touching to notice anyone else.

"Come on, Harry!" Lee Jordan had to poke him in the ribs to get his attention. "Tryouts, Quidditch - any of this sounding familiar?"

Harry walked down to the field with Ginny. Their hands kept brushing, but rather then their usual awkward reaction, they merely glanced at one another and kept walking. Something between them had definitely changed, and it had started with something as simple as her taking his hand. For the first time in his life, Harry was content simply to walk next to someone and not say a wordknowing she was at his side was somehow a source of peace. Even as in the back of his head, a small voice kept saying _You'll put her in danger - you can't get involved - it's all a distraction_He chose to ignore the demons in his own mind, and focused his attentions on the crowd waiting.

"Same teams, same drillanyone interested in Seeker, gather over herewe'll send you up shortly." He waited, and soon a small line stood in front of him. Mostly second and third years he didn't know, but to his great shock _Neville Longbottom_ stood in the line, looking anxious. Hiding his surprise, he assigned the two second years as Seeker, and told the rest to wait.

On the field, once again the biggest competition seemed to lie between Ginny Weasley and Meghan O'Toole. Harry had to supress a grin, as he watched the younger girl suddenly dive towards the ground, while her teammates struggled to follow, before shooting upwards and attempting to get the Quaffle past her twin. He deflected it, but only just. _Looks like we found our reserve Chasers._

His eyes narrowed as he watched the Creevey brothers knock a single bludger towards Ashleigh Mahdavi with the force of a cannon, which narrowly missed taking off the top of the girl's head. Not to be outdone, Seamus and Dean retaliated, firing their own bludger towards Ginny. She actually _leapt_ over it, before resettling on her broom and continuing up field. Harry was torn between wanted to yell his approval and hopping his own broom to yank her back to the ground and relative safety.

Neither of the second years seemed to be having much success in nabbing the elusive Snitch. Harry nodded to Neville and a third year, Nat Sherman, and they sped off in the direction of the glimmering orb as the disheartened younger students hit the ground. Harry resisted the urge to give them both a pat on the shoulder as they would no doubt find it patronizing, to say the least. "You all did well - keep practicing and we'll see again next year." _That seemed to do the trick,_ he thought, as he saw the fire he recognized all too well spring up in their eyes. 

Shifting his attention back to the scrimmage, he watched as Neville flew after the Snitch, Nat on his tail. Seeing what was happening, Seamus swung his bat at a bludger and sent it flying in Neville's direction. The normally awkward boy swerved deftly, and kept going, his hand outstretched. A bellow of applause shifted Harry's attention momentarily, and he saw that Ginny had managed to score against Ron, much to the delight of the twins. The yells however turned into a chorus of screams, and Harry's head turned quickly, just in time to see Neville suddenly dive, the Snitch hovering only a few feet from the ground at the end of the pitch.

It was a good dive, Harry recognized. Any second now, Neville would pull up, and- wait, he wasn't pulling up! Harry felt his heart momentarily stop as Neville, his eyes focused on the golden ball, plowed headlong into the grass.

Harry sprinted out onto the field, the twins right behind him. He couldn't hear the screams of the onlookers now. His only thought was _Please, don't let him be too badly hurt! _Nat had jumped from his own broom and was running to Neville's side. 

Dropping to his knees, Harry turned Neville over, and saw that the other boy's eyes were wide and unfocused. His arm was at a funny angle, and Harry winced as he recognized the symptoms of a broken bone. And then Harry saw it. Neville's other hand was closed, unbelievably, around the small struggling Snitch.

"I got it, Harry. I got it," Neville was saying in a harsh whisper, as he tried to sit up, swaying a little.

"Yeah, Neville - you did." How, Harry wasn't quite sure. The last time he's seen the Snitch, it had looked a good few inches from Neville's grasping hand. But the proof was displayed a foot away from his disbelieving eyes. Neville had sacrificed himself in the attempt to get the Snitch.

The twins were also staring. "Jesus, Neville - it was just a scrambladge." Fred said, sounding half-shocked, half-impressed.

"Scrimmage," Harry corrected automatically.

"Whatever," Fred brushed his mispronunciation away. "Point being, it's not like you getting the Snitch was going to get the Slytherins exiled to outer Urtblekistan or somethingwhat were you on about, pulling a stunt like that?"

"Had to get it," Neville grunted. "Had to prove I could."

The rest of the players had touched down now, and were crowding around Neville. Harry could hear the shocked whispers.

"Is he all right?" he heard Meghan ask.

"Fred said he got the Snitch," Seamus said, sounding dazed.

"What? No way" on and on. Harry gently took the Snitch from Neville's uninjured hand. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey," he said firmly.

"But the tryouts," Neville began, his face looking pale.

"I think you've proven yourself, Neville." Harry nodded to the twins, who helped set Neville on his feet. He had in Harry's mind anywayalthough he was wild to find out exactly when Neville had learned to dive like that

"Come on, Neville." Hermione's face was full of concern as she wrapped a steadying arm around his waist. "Madam Pomfrey can fix bones in about a second. Harry will let you know about your tryout." The Gryffindors pulled back, letting Hermione lead Neville away. 

They had only progressed a few feet before it started. The slow deliberate clapping. The shouts of approval. Started by Lee and the twins, it spread through the onlookers like fire and soon everyone on the field was yelling, stomping, and clapping their support. Harry watched as Neville's pale face broke into a grin.

"Think that settles the open Seeker position," Lee shouted over the hubbub.

"Yeah," Harry grinned.

It took a few minutes for everyone to settle down. Even Nat Sherman, who had put on a fairly good performance, was shouting his support for Neville. Harry held up a hand, and quiet began to spread through the crowd.

"I want to thank everyone for a great tryout. The team and I will meet, and results will be posted in the Common Room tonight. For everyone selected, practice begins next week. If you aren't chosen this year," his eyes drifted over the younger students, "please keep up with the practice, and we'll see you again next yeareveryone did a fabulous job, and it would be an honour to share the field with any one of you." He started the applause then, knowing how much it would mean to those not selected this year.

"Team - locker rooms." Harry said in a low voice as the applause drifted away, as did the crowd of hopefuls and onlookers.

In the locker room, Harry wrote the names of everyone who had tried out beneath their prospective positions. "Angelina, why don't you tally the votes after each name?" he suggested. "We'll all vote yay or nay, and narrow it from there?" This seemed the best way, so they proceeded.

Unsurprisingly Ginny ,Meghan O'Toole, Ron, Michael O'Toole, the Creevey brothers, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Neville received rousing votes of support. In the end, it was decided to make Ron Keeper, with Michael as his reserve. "That'll give Michael two more years to bulk up before he's Keeper on his own," Harry said approvingly.

"And it will make it a lot easier to explain why we're breaking the no-first years rule to McGonagall." Angelina said. "If he's a reserve, we can have him practice on a school broomhe can use one of ours if he ever actually gets to play."

"Right." Somehow that fact that first years were rarely on the House teams had completely slipped Harry's mind. "Moving on to Chasers-"

"I think we need both Ginny and Meghan," Alicia said firmly. "I'd say to go with three reserve Chasers but that gets too confusing."

"Ashleigh was pretty good, but Ginny and Meghan were great!" Katie Bell agreed feverently. "Why didn't you tell us about Ginny before?" she asked the twins, puzzled. "She could have been practicing with us for the last few years."

"Um, that's because Mum made her promise not to try out until this year," Fred said. "To be honest, she's not going to be to thrilled that Ginny tried out this year, but at least we'll both be around and able to keep an eye on her."

"And Ron." George added.

"Ok, that takes care of Keeper and Chaser." Harry said, crossing out the names of the others who had tried out for those positions. "What about Seeker?"

There was a pregnant silence. Finally, Angelina said, "I never thought I would be saying this, but it's clearly Neville, isn't it? I mean, if I hadn't known it was him I would have sworn that dive was yours, Harry."

"Tell me about it!" George said. "Guess something good came out of him looking for that blasted toad all the time - made it easier for him to spy the Snitch."

"Everyone agree?" Harry asked.

There were silent nods. Harry circled Neville's name, and crossed off the rest. "Last one - Beater."

"Fitting, as we're damned hard to replace," George grinned at them all. Everyone snorted, but nodded. Fred and George really were going to be a hard act to follow.

"The Creeveys did well, but then so did Seamus and Dean." Katie said slowly. "This is hard!"

They all sat in silence for a few minutes while they thought. Harry could see what was taking so long in their minds. It was thought to be good luck to have a set of brothers on the team - in any position - and without question the Creeveys had been very good. In the end, they listed the good points and bad points of each team of Beaters, as called out by the twins.

"Seamus and Dean definitely have more upper body strength - they can hit that thing a country mile if they need to," Fred said while George nodded. "However, when it comes to aim, the Creeveys are bloody well fantasticI think they'd be able to put out a candle and leave the wick perfectly trimmed if they tried. It's probably the brother thing - they can almost hear what the other one is thinking."

  
"Yeah, but think about the teams this year!" Angelina argued. "You know the Slytherins are like a troll-fest, and Ravenclaws' Beaters aren't exactly lightweights. We need someone to balance things out and I say strength's a big part of strategy.

  
In the end, it was decided to go with Seamus and Dean, though both Creevey's would be given a special talking-to with both the twins and Harry, reminding them to try out again the next year. Angelina neatly scribed their choices onto a piece of parchment and offered to post it in the Common Room.

Harry followed the rest out of locker room, and thought over the tryouts. They really had gone well. There was just one more post he wanted to fill, though. He caught up to twins.

"You know, Lee's going to be gone next year too. What say we let someone act as his colour man on commentator?"

The twins nodded. "We've been talking about that," Fred said seriously. 

"Needs to be someone who knows the rules, and has a big mouth," George grinned. "And who can hold their own against Lee."

Only one name came to mind. "I'll talk to her," Harry volunteered. He only hoped she would consider it. 

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, and Beci.

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	9. Siren's Song Chapter 9

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. (I'd like to add here my sincere request that the report I read about the delaying of book five was a hoax designed to ensure me of having a bad day! Come on, Jo - It's been TWO YEARS!!!! We're all in withdrawal!!!!) To my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - my eternal thanks and praise.

Author's Note: I know I keep warning you about long chapters. Sorry about that, I have a tendency to write until I hit what I feel is a natural breakwhich explains why some chapters are just over 3,000 words and some are maxing out at over 6,000. Well, this one's a biggy at just over 8,000 wordsconsider yourself forewarned. 

The music quoted in this chapter is from Sarah McLaughlin's _Mirrorball_ CD, although all the songs originally appeared on her _Fumbling Towards Ecstasy _CD, which was released in 1993. I'll clarify that further: I based the performances of _Fear_ and _Possession_ off _Mirrorball_, and _Fumbling Towards Ecstasy_ I took directly from _Fumbling Towards Ecstasy_the first time I ever heard the live performance of _Fear_ I almost drove off the road - it's possibly the closest thing to angel's singing that I have ever heard. (It's sometimes hard finding music you like that matches both the accepted Harry Potter cannon timeline and the story. I lucked out.) As this story progresses I will try to stick to songs released on or before 1995, but if a '96 slips in there I apologize profusely. (Sarah McLaughlin's _Mirrorball_, copyright 1999 Arista Records. _Fumbling Towards Ecstasy_, copyright 1993 Arista Records.) The name of the band I stole from the title of Michelle Branch's debut album, _The Spirit Room, _(Maverick Records, 2001.). Please don't sue, as I own nothing of value.

By the time Harry and the twins had reached the Common Room, Angelina had already posted the team list and there was a small crowd hovering around the board. Ron was on the edge of the group, obviously waiting for his friend to make an appearance. The second he spotted Harry he was at his side. "I can't believe it," he said hoarsely. "I'm Keeper. Not even reserve."

"'Course you are," Harry said, giving him a punch in the arm. "Best of the lot, weren't you?"

"Yeah, butwow." Ron's eyes looked very bright. "Thanks."

"Umm, at the risk of sounding proud of you or something, you weren't just sprinkled with pixie dust and handed that position, you git," George said. "You earned it, fair and square."

"Keep gobbling on like that, and people will think you bribed your way on the team. Oh, wait - that's right, this is the _Gryffindor_ team we're talking about," Fred added. "Not that I wouldn't say no to a new broom, but Mum's lectures about lusting after material possessions would all come flooding back to me, and then I'd develop morals and it all goes downhill from there"

"Shut up," Ron said, without much feeling.

"Back at you," Fred retaliated, punching him in the arm. He looked around. "Where's Ginny?"

"She went to check on Neville." Ron said.

"Neville! I think you two ought to be the ones to tell him." Katie called over from where she was talking to Ashleigh Mahdavi, no doubt giving her a good pep talk.

"Yeah, we want to talk to the Creeveys anyway - you two have fun." Fred winked, before he and George headed to Colin and Dennis's side. The younger boys hardly seemed disheartened, and their faces lit up at the sight of the twins. 

"God help us - if that bunch buddies up, they'll be blowing the tower to bits before the end of term," Harry muttered as he and Ron made their way out of the portrait hole and began heading for the infirmary.

"Who's our first match against, anyway?" Ron asked. He was so excited, he kept bobbing around on his feet, reminding Harry of someone who'd eaten their weight in Fizzing Whizbees.

"Hufflepuff. Second Saturday in November." They hadn't faced Hufflepuff since their third year, when Cedric had been captain - the only loss Harry had ever had in his Quidditch career. Some of his emotions must have shown on his face, since Ron gave him a bracing punch in the arm. 

"Cheer up - so long as the monsoons don't put in an appearance, we'll be fine." Harry didn't reply.

Madam Pomfrey was somewhat reluctant to let them into the infirmary, but capitulated when Harry promised they'd be gone in a few minutes. "We have something really important to tell Neville, Madam Pomfrey, and then we'll be gone again. You shouldn't see us again for months."

"A likely story, Mr. Potter - although I must say it must be some sort of record for you, having been on the grounds this long without winding up in here for one of your usual dangerous stunts. Perhaps that prefect badge has reminded you that there are more important hobbies then attempting to break every bone in your body before you leave school?" Tutting, she led them over to Neville's bed and left the five of them alone.

Neville's eyes were anxious. "Well?" he asked, swallowing hard. Ginny and Hermione were perched around his bed, looking like avenging angels. Their expressions held a very clear warning for Harry not to upset Neville.

Not that he planned to. "How's your arm, Neville?" he asked.

"Fine - Madam Pomfrey fixed it in about a second, but she said she wanted to keep an eye on me overnight. Probably thinks I'll take a header down the stairs if she let me escape." Ron grinned at Neville's prophetic words.

"No permanent damage? No reason you won't be able to use it soon?" Harry pressed on.

"No, why?" Neville was starting to look hopeful.

"Good, because the team starts practice next week. Change that, _you'll_ be starting practice next week - with the rest of the team, as our new Reserve Seeker," Harry grinned at him. Hermione gasped, and put her hands over her mouth, looking like she might cry. Ginny's smile was practically a beacon of light. And Ron, he just stood bouncing around and grinned, waiting for Neville's reaction.

Neville just stared at Harry, his mouth open. Finally, he managed to stutter out, "I -I made it? I made the team?"

"Yes, you prat!" Ron roared. "Of course you did, with a dive like that!"

Neville's cheeks had gone very red. "I made the team!" he exclaimed triumphantly, bouncing off the bed. "I can't believe it!" Harry had never seen Neville like this. The boy gave off a loud whoop, then scooped Ginny up, twirling her around. "I made the Quidditch team!" he all but shouted. Ginny giggled, kissed his cheek, and hugged him back. 

"Um, Neville - I don't think you should really be swinging her around with that arm just yet," Hermione said.

"What? Oh!" He blushed and set her down, then turned to Harry. "I can't thank you enough, Harry! Me, on the Quidditch team.oh wow."

"You earned it, mate," Harry said. As he caught sight of Madam Pomfrey storming over towards them, no doubt looking to tell them off because of the racket they were causing, he said hastily "We'll see you tomorrow - best you stay up here and get a good rest."

"Yeah." Neville was settling himself back on the bed, a dreamy look in his eyes.

Hastily waving their goodbyes, as the nurse angrily gestured them towards the door, Harry led them out into the hallway. "My god, Ginny - are you crying?" he asked incredulously.

"Harry, did you see his face? I've never seen him like that!" Ginny was wiping her eyes. Harry noticed that Hermione's face was also shiny with tears.

"Oh, for the love of Chocolate Frogs" Ron rolled his eyes. "Keep it up, Ginny - and we won't share the rest of the news."

"What?" Ginny's head shot up from where she'd been drying her eyes on her handkerchief.

"You, my silly sister, are the new reserve Chaser!" Ron grinned at her. "How's that for something you can get properly worked up about?" He looked at Harry and Hermione. "Waterworks warning."

Sure enough, Ginny burst into tears. "Really?" she managed to get out.

"Really." Harry said, and pulled her into a hug, feeling her arms around his waist. "Think I'd joke about something like this?" he asked her softly, tipping her chin up so he could see her eyes.

Ron cleared his throat. "Much as I hate to interrupt the impeding snogfest, isn't there something we should be doing? Like celebrating in the Common Room - away from where Filch might find us at any second." His eyes darted around the hall. "I'm all for a good game of hide and pray-to-god-he-won't-seek with the resident ogre of the castle, but I had kind of hoped to get through my first week back without hearing his voice." He didn't look a bit upset about breaking up the moment.

"Good call." Harry agreed, releasing Ginny, albeit reluctantly. "Besides, there's something the team and I have to discuss with Hermione."

"You want me to do what?" Hermione squeaked, her eyes wide. "You're kidding, right?" The four of them had returned to the Common Room, where Harry had the rest of the team gather together, before he pulled Hermione over to discuss his plans for her. Far from looking pleased, Hermione looked ready to jump over the back of the couch and run for the door.

"Yeah, we're just running a test to see how many octaves your voice can climb," smirked Fred. "So far, you're doing swimmingly."

"Like a duck in water," George added. 

"Oh, sod off you two." Angelina snapped, before plumping herself down in a chair across from Hermione. "It's not that scary, Hermione. Lee's leaving school next year, and besides, he's been whinging for ages that running the commentary solo has become something of a major bore."

"Lee's funny." Hermione whispered. "I'm not funny. Not even remotely amusing."

"Lee's himself. You'll be fine - just do what you usually do. Besides, some of the fans would probably love a solid fact-based commentator." Alicia said comfortingly.

"As compared to our 'determined to be witty and damn the consequences' commentator," Katie piped in.

"Think how pleased McGonagall will be to have some company chasing Lee around the pitch and wrestling the megaphone away from him," Fred grinned at her. "It'll be his worst nightmare - I should know, I've heard him yell about it in his sleep."

Ron took Hermione's hands in his own. "No one knows the game better then you, except maybe Madam Hooch. You can practically recite_ Quidditch Through the Ages _word for word." He gave Harry a grin over the top of her head. "Besides, think what a step forward it will be for the role of women in Quidditchthere's never been a female commentator at Hogwarts."

"Wellwhen you put it like that," Hermione said slowly, the familiar glint back in her eyes. Harry had the feeling that her loyalty to SPEW was going to be nothing compared to her new mission.

Saturday morning dawned clear and cool. Harry woke to find Ron practically jumping up and down on his bed with excitement over their first free weekend, and the Seges party. "It's a very good thing you don't drink coffee," Harry groused as he reached for his glasses. "I'd hate to see you after a few espressos."

"Whatever, mate - get your ass up. I thought we'd go visit Hagrid todaywe haven't really had a chance to visit with him since we got back."

"And you're just panting to find out what he did this summer, aren't you?" Harry groaned. Ron threw a pillow at him, which Harry knocked out of the way. Unfortunately, his aim was a bit off and the pillow flew across the room and hit Dean in the head.

"What the hell-" Dean sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily. "What are you two up to now?"

"Oh, six foot three, give or take an inch." Ron was clearly not going to be put off. Harry ducked the pillow Dean flung back at him and headed for the shower. "I'll see you at breakfast, shall I?" he asked Ron.

Hermione joined them at the table some time later, her book-bag practically splitting at the seams. "Not signing up for umpteen electives again, are you?" Ron asked.

"No," she said breathlessly. "I thought I should brush up on my Quidditch facts before the first game."

"What's to know? Memorize the players, make snide remarks about anyone wearing green, and point out how dashing the new Gryffindor keeper is at every opportunity," Ron said, pouring syrup on a tall stack of waffles. "Simple."

She ignored him, and turned to Harry. "I thought we might go see Hagrid this morning. He only answered two of my owls this summer, and I'm dying to hear all about where he went."

"Sure enough, that's what boy genius proposed to me at an ungodly hour this morning." Harry grinned at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Great minds think alike."

Harry was also thinking of something elsesomething he hadn't had a chance to talk about with either Ron or Hermione. His godmotherif she'd been his mother's best friend, then surely Hagrid would know something about her. Knowing her name, at the very least, would be somehow comforting. He opened his mouth to tell them what Sirius had said, when Professor McGonagall appeared at his elbow.

"I hear tryouts went well," she said without preamble, her expression stern. "When exactly were you planning to tell me that you've chosen to place two first-year students on the Reserve team?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Sorry Professor McGonagall, the first-year rule sort of, well, slipped my mindthey're really good, you know."

"Be that as it may, Potter, you know perfectly well that all members of the team have to be cleared through your head of house before they can be officially listed on the roster - and that includes reserves. I will make my own decision at your first practice next week." Her mouth was set in a very thin line. "You will submit your practice schedule as well as your team roster to me by tomorrow morning." Looking miffed, she turned and headed for her seat at the Head Table.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked, in a low voice. "She's never asked for a roster before."

"That we know of," Harry said gloomily. Professor McGonagall had mastered the ability to make him feel incredibly guilty about almost anything. "Oh well, I'll just have to warn the O'Tooles to fly their hearts out."

As soon as breakfast was over they headed across the lawns to Hagrid's hut. Fang was outside the door, and he bounded joyfully over to their sides the moment he saw them. Hagrid's head popped out the door, and he held up a hand. "Give us a sec' - it's a bit of a mess in here."

Harry couldn't help but notice that a brown owl flew out the window the second Hagrid stepped back inside. He shook his head, and moved his shoe to prevent Fang from turning it to jello with his enthusiastic snuffling.

"Come in, come in!" Hagrid held open the door a minute later, and his smile was a very welcoming one. "Make yerselves at home. I jus' put the kettle on, and there's pie in the oven." 

Soon the three of them were sitting comfortably around Hagrid's large wooden table, enjoying hot tea. Despite his big breakfast, Ron helped himself to a large slice of pie. (Harry had told him about Hagrid's improved cooking skills.)

"So? How'd yer firs' week back go?" Hagrid beamed at them.

"Ok," Harry said, as Ron shrugged with his mouth full of pie, and Hermione answered with a bright "Wonderful."

"Going' to the Seges bash tonight?" Hagrid asked them slyly.

"Oh, yeah." Ron and Hermione both turned red, while Harry looked studiously at his teacup.

"Aren't yeh goin', Harry?" Hagrid asked, looking concerned.

"Yes." Somehow he knew Hagrid would understand why he wasn't more enthused. "Cho Chang asked me."

"Oh?" Hagrid eye's were sharp on his face. "Be gentle wit' that one, Harry. She's seen a fair bit of pain this las' year. Hasn't seemed like herself all week, from wha' I hear tell."

Harry nodded. He would have been slightly annoyed at these words of caution if they'd come from anyone else, but he knew Hagrid was speaking out of concern for both Cho and himself. 

He didn't know how else to bring it up, so he just said what was bothering him. "HagridI found out something this summerthat I had a godmother." Harry was watching Hagrid very closely, so he missed Ron and Hermione's reaction. Hagrid, he noticed, looked suddenly wary. 

"Did yeh now?" He looked almost angry. "From who?"

"My aunt." _Lying to Hagrid is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, _he thought, _but I have to know. _It sounded ridiculous, even to his own ears, but he pressed on. "I was asking her why she'd never told me about Sirius Black being my godfather, and it just sort of, came up." Harry shuffled his feet. "She said neither of them cared a whit for me, and that if they had, they'd have sucked up to their responsibilities and taken care of me." 

Hagrid slowly drained his tea, not answering. Just when Harry thought he hadn't understood the question, Hagrid spoke in a slow, sad voice. "I can't answer that for yeh, Harry. I can only tell yeh this - your parents thought long an' hard abou' who ter name as yer godparents. Sirius was James' best friend, and yer godmother - well, she an' yer mum were damned near joined at th' hip when they were here." 

"Is she dead?" Harry asked quickly.

Hagrid shook his head. "I thin' that's a question yeh'd best ask Dumbledore." He stood up, and stared out the window. "I can tell yeh this about yer godmum, she near lost her head wit' grief after yer mum and dad died." His voice faded away, and Harry realized that all three of them were hanging on his every word. "Now, I need ter get ter town and check on somethin' for Dumbledore. You lot have a jolly Seges." And with that, he bustled them out the door, shutting it with a very firm click in their startled faces.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us you'd found out about your godmother?" Hermione said at once.

"Didn't have a chance to bring it up?" Harry shrugged. "Not exactly the sort of thing you can just pop in a conversation. 'Oh, by the way, Sirius let slip he was in love with my mum's best friend, who was also my godmother. What he won't tell me is if she's alive or dead.' I'll tell you this, though - that's the second person to tell me she went mad after my parents died."

"Well, if she and your mum were best friends, and she dated Sirius that's understandable, isn't it?" Hermione said gently. "It was a lot for her to take."

"Yeah, that's what Sirius said." Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. Ron hadn't spoken a word. Harry gave him an inquiring glance. "What?"

"Well" Ron looked uncomfortable, "if she went to St. Mungo's, that's not too hard to checkit probably made the Daily Prophet. You know how they love a good scandal, and this would qualify." Seeing Harry's face, he said hastily, "Forget it, it was a stupid idea."

"No," Harry said firmly. "It wasn't stupid at all. I'll start checking tomorrow."

Hermione reached over and took his hand. "What do you want us to do to help?"

Thoughts of his godmother lingered with Harry all afternoon. Even as he doodled over his proposed Quidditch practice schedule, he kept hearing Sirius' words in his head, '_She couldn't handle - everything was going much too fast for her, Harry.'_ Had she just snapped? He'd read dozens of reports in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ of how whole families had ended up in St. Mungo's after losing a loved one to Voldemort's followers. His godmother had not only lost her best friend, but Sirius as well. Had she known he was innocent? Was that what had been the final straw? 

He sighed and reached for his diary. Obviously just sitting and stewing wasn't going to help him tonight, and he didn't want to be in a glum mood when he met Chothe night was going to be hard enough without the memory of a lost godmother he'd never known hanging over his head. Loading his quill with ink, he wrote:

__

Hagrid used the same voice that Sirius did when speaking about herlike she was someone long gone. Is she dead? Or just locked away in her mind, like Neville's parents? 

NevilleHarry looked across the dorm room, to where Neville lay on his bed, his lips moving as he silently read his Potions notes. Neville visited St. Mungo's with his Gran during the holidays. Would he possibly know anything? But then, how exactly did one bring that up in conversation? He wasn't even supposed to _know _about Neville's parents - the only reason he did was because of the memory he'd seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. 

Harry sighed and wrote:

__

How am I supposed to find her if no one will even tell me her name? Ron's right - starting tomorrow, I'm digging through old copies of the Daily Prophet. If Rita Skeeter was assigned the story, you can bet she probably listed every horrible outcome - regardless of who it might hurt. 

I don't know why this is so important - I just know I have to try and find her.

That evening, Ron and Harry made their way to the Common Room feeling self-conscious in their dress robes. Ron's new dress robes were almost spartan-like in appearance, a severe blue-black without so much as a velvet collar. _I guess after the lace fiasco, he wanted to go no-frills, _Harry thought.

He noticed that Ginny was avoiding his eyes, and was just weighing whether or not he should go talk to her when Hermione appeared, looking very pretty indeed in her silvery-blue dress robes. Ron looked as though he'd been punched in the stomach. "You look nice," Harry told her awkwardly.

"Thanks!" she said, blushing. "You too." She waited for Ron to say something, but he appeared to be incapable of speech.

"Come on, you lot!" Fred yelled, already at the portrait hole. He had an arm around Angelina, and she was giggling at something he'd whispered in her ear. "Time to ogle later, Ron. Sorry for his manners, Hermione, we think he was dropped on his head as child." Ron went very red, and gave Fred a look that would have burned a hole through Antarctica.

Lee was paired up with Alicia. George was deep in conversation with Katie, Seamus and Dean had claimed Lavender and Parvati, and Neville would be meeting up with Susan Bones in the Entrance Hall. As the group began making their way out of the room, Ginny appeared at Harry's side. "Have a good time tonight," she whispered in his ear, before disappearing up the stairs towards her room. Hermione gave him a severe look as she followed Ron out of the portrait hole, leaving Harry to scramble after them while shooting a hopeless look after Ginny. 

He spied Cho waiting by the marble stairs, and held up a hand in greeting. They both blushed. Feeling doubtful as to whether or not this was a good idea, he made his way to her side. "Hey," he said by way of greeting. "You looknice."_No points for originality on compliments tonight, Potter!_ He groaned inwardly.

She did, actually. Her shining dark hair was pulled back into a simple knot at the back of her head, and her robes were a brilliant shade of red. "Thanks," she said, not looking up. 

"I guess we should-" he started.

"It looks like everyone-" she said at the same time.

They both froze, then grinned at each other. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. "Go ahead, we'll catch you up." Then he slid an arm around Cho's shoulders, and led her over for a private word.

"Listen, Cho - I know this must be hard for you. And I just wanted to say," he flailed. (What _did _he want to say? 'Sorry Cedric's not here? Sorry you lost your boyfriend, but if it makes you feel any better I think about him all the time, and sometimes wake up screaming about how sorry I am?') He cleared his throat and tried again. "I just wanted to say, I never had the chance to tell you how sorry I am. And that I'm really honoured to be your date tonight." _Where had that come from? _he thought wildly.

But Cho was looking at him with what looked like a genuine smile on her face - the first he'd seen her wear since the Third task last year. "Thanks Harry. That means a lot." She swallowed. "This whole week's been a bit of a nightmare, you knoweveryone's treating me like I'll break if they say his name. But it actually helps, talking about him." She reached out for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "I guess I figured if anyone would understand that, you would."

"Yeah." Harry looked down at her, and felt as though a weight he hadn't even known he was carrying had suddenly been knocked off his shoulders. "Well, ditto that. And if you want to talk, you know I'm here." She just smiled, and nodded.

"Let's get going, shall we?" Still holding hands, they followed the noisy group out the doors and towards Hogsmeade.

Harry had never been inside the Hog's Head Pub, although he knew it was a favourite of Hagrid's. Most students preferred to stay at the Three Broomsticks during their Hogsmeade visits, as Madam Rosmerta was both a lovely and generous hostess. 

In retrospect, the Hog's Head was smaller, with dark wood and a slightly more mature crowd. Harry took in the dark velvet curtains, and the paintings on the wall that depicted scenes of wizard life from a century ago. 

The Hogwarts' students had a group of tables all to themselves, set up close to a wooden stage beside a large open dance floor. "Wonder who's playing tonight," Harry whispered to Ron. 

"For sure it's not the Weird Sisters. They're still out on tour." Ron looked around at the instruments on stage. Several guitars, a grand piano, what looked suspiciously like a Muggle electric keyboard, and a rather elaborate drum set were already set up. 

Hermione peered at a board behind the bar. "The Spirit Room."

"Huh?" Ron asked her, looking around. "Where?"

"No, that's the name of the band. The Spirit Room."

"Never heard of them," Ron said with a shrug. "Oy, Fred!" he called across the table, "ever heard of this band?"

"No, but Rene said they were fabulous," he called back.

"Who's Rene?" Harry asked Cho.

"He's the landlord," Cho answered. "He's a little odd, but he's ok."

Just then, someone set a huge tray of mugs filled with butterbeer and mulled mead on the table. As everyone reached eagerly for a glass, Harry looked at the man who'd carried over their drinks. Easily over six feet tall and extremely burly, his lower arms were heavily muscled and bore several tattoos. "I'm Rene DuLac," he said in a gravelly voice, meeting Harry's gaze. "You'd be Harry Potter, then. Hagrid's said a fair few words about you. Pleasure to meet ya." His accent was difficult to place, and his voice was so deep that it took all of your concentration to follow what Rene was saying.

"How've you been, Miss Cho?" he asked then, setting a glass of what looked like red juice in front of her.

"Getting by, Rene, thanks." She smiled at the landlord, who grunted in reply before moving on. Cho looked at Harry. "Rene let me come down here a lot at the end of last term. Just to sit and not talk to anyone. He made me this," she nodded toward the drink, "and named it Chang's Fire. It's all I'll drink when I'm here."

"What's in it?" Harry asked, giving it a dubious glance.

"Vanilla rum, cranberry juice, and a shot of cinnamon Red Hot." Cho's smile was sad. "He said that way he knew exactly how many I'd hadafter 3 he'd walk me back to the castle."

"Was it awful?" Harry asked her. He'd never really talked to Cho, and while the subject was a bit, well morbid, he could tell she wanted to talk about everything that had happened.

She didn't need him to clarify. "Worse then the most painful nightmare you can imagine. At least then, you can wake up. But with Ced - there was no waking upand his poor parents." She took a sip of her drink, then looked at him guiltily. "We can talk about something else, you know. This can't be easy for you to listen to."

"It's not," he told her truthfully. "But who else can I talk about it to?"

She nodded, playing with the folds of her robe. Harry looked around them. Ron and Hermione were laughing at Fred and Angelina, who had engaged in a rather one-sided thumb-wrestling match. He heard voices and looked up to see the Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws making their way over to their tables. 

Draco, he noticed, had Blaise Zabini's hand tucked in his own. Pansy Parkinson was holding tightly onto the arm of Devon Warrington, the 7th year Slytherin Chaser and seemed to be focused on looking anywhere but at Draco. Crabbe and Goyle, Harry saw, had once again shown up without dates. ("Big shock there!" Ron hissed in his ear. "Surprising lack of deaf, dumb and blind women at Hogwarts!") Glancing at the others, he recognized Padma Patil with her fellow prefect Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie MacMillan holding hands with Mandy Brocklehurst from Ravenclaw. Each house had its own table, but with all the inter-house dating, everyone just gave up and sat en masse. Harry was pleased to see that Draco and his crowd kept to the other end of the table, although he did see Draco's eyes narrowing on Hermione as he made a whispered comment in Blaise's ear, causing her to laugh.

Almost as if he could sense the tension between certain members of the Hogwarts party, Rene jumped up on stage and held up his hands for their attention.

"Good evening. Allow me to welcome another class of Hogwarts upperclassmen to the 200th annual Seges party." Cheers followed this announcement, and Harry caught sight of a few locals pounding their mugs on the bar. "Fifth years, you have only one job tonight - to make sure the 7th years make it home. Preferably in one piece, but if you can't, then it's you who'll have to answer to Dumbledore, not me." The 7th years all laughed, whistled and cheered, the twins choosing that moment to set off a few no-heat fireworks. "Oh yes, and to the people unlucky enough to be in Gryffindor, I pity the folks assigned to Fred and George Weasley...they claim to have been working their way up to tonight since their fourth year." More laughter followed this statement. 

"And with no further adieu, I give you - the Spirit Room!" The pub burst into applause, even though it was clear not one student from Hogwarts had a clue as to who this band was. As they trooped up on stage, Harry saw that there were four men and two women in the band. Three of the men had very long hair pulled back into a ponytail, reminiscent of Bill Weasley. The fourth man, whom Harry saw was the drummer, had a shaved head and too many earrings to count. The two women, however, couldn't have been more different in appearance. While one was dressed in simple ivory coloured robes, with the hood pulled up to obscure her features, the other was dressed in Muggle clothing that was no doubt designed to draw attention. She had shoulder length curly hair in a shade of red that Harry was positive he would never find in nature. Her blouse was a loose folk style, with much embroidery and ruffles, paired with a wildly patterned skirt. Around her neck, she wore enough necklaces to rival Professor Trelawney - at least 10, 9 of which held large turquoise stones that fell at graduating lengths on her chest. The last one was a very long silver pendant with a goldstone center that swung to her waist. Her feet were bare, and she reminded Harry greatly of pictures he had seen in his Muggle history classes of hippies from the 1960's.

"Good evening." The hippie looking woman spoke, her voice magically amplified, no doubt having applied the _Sonorus_ charm to herself. "Welcome to the Hog's Head. As Rene was good enough to let you know, we are the Spirit Room. Before we start, we feel obliged to raise a glass to the Hogwarts' Seges party." Every band member held up a drink, and waited for the pub to do likewise. When all had their glasses raised, the woman continued, "To the new generation - try not to piss yourselves on the way home." Harry looked around uncomfortably, as the onlookers chuckled and drank. The woman drained her glass, and then grinned. "I know what you're thinkingshut up and play, Lauren." A few loud cheers met this announcement, and she sighed. "So be itjust remember, the more you drink...the bigger our take." She bowed her head, and the room fell silent, only to be broken by the sounds of a piano being played. In the background, Harry heard the soft wail of the keyboard playing eerily.

Then Lauren began to sing and Harry forgot about everything else:

__

Morning smiles like the face of a newborn child, Innocent, Unknowing.

Winter's end - promises of a long-lost friend; Speaks to me of comfort.

But I fear I have nothing to give, and I have so much - 

Her voice seemed to slip inside his head, and touch his very soul. The sound was warm, invigorating, and reminded him of something - something that he couldn't quite place. Then a second voice joined hersthe woman in the ivory robes.

__

- To lose here in this lonely place. Tangled up in our embrace.

There's nothing I'd like better than to fall

The two voices harmonized and blended in a way Harry hadn't thought was humanly possible. It was hypnotizing, like watching a bird fly and wondering how it stayed aloft.

And then Lauren's voice sang softly:

__

But I fear, I have nothing to give.

Harry waited, almost holding his breath. Surely they would sing together again. He reached out and took Cho's hand in his own, wanting to share the magic with someone else.

He wasn't disappointed.

As if pouring from the mouths of angels, the two women sang on:

__

But I fear I have nothing to give, and I have so much to lose here in this lonely place.

Tangled up in our embrace. There's nothing I'd like better than to fall.

And with that last word, the drums began a haunting beat that seemed to work its way into his very brain.

__

But I fear I have nothing to give.

The keyboard started again, with its eerie melody. It blended with the drums, somehow making it impossible for Harry's feet to stay still. As if in a sort of trance, he helped Cho to her feet and led her to the dance floor. He saw, to his surprise, that he was not the only one doing so. Literally dozens of his fellow students followed suit.

__

Wind in Time, rapes the flower trembling on the vine and nothing yields to shelter - 

From above, they say temptation will destroy our love: The never ending hunger.

But I fear I have nothing to give, and I have so much to lose here in this lonely place.

Tangled up in our embrace. There's nothing I'd like better than to fall.

And then, as if silenced by a far stronger hand the drum stopped, leaving only Lauren's voice tremulously hanging in the air:

__

But I fear, I have nothing to give. 

And I have so much to lose.

I have nothing to give,

And I have so much to lose, to know what I'm fearing now.

You know what I'm fearing now?

Her voice arched over the crowd, and the song ended. The students on the dance floor burst into loud applause, and Harry found, to his shock, that he didn't want to flee the floor like he had at the Yule Ball. He was clapping and yelling along with the rest of them, not wanting the song to end. When the applause began to die down he looked at Cho.

"Wow," she said shakily. 

"Yeah," said Harry.

"That was incredible!" Hermione squealed, looking positively transported. 

The drum began again, this time faster. A driving rhythm, mixed with the soft whine of the guitar before Lauren began to sing again:

__

Listen as the wind blows from across great divide,

Voices trapped in yearning: memories trapped in time.

The night is my companion and solitude my guide,

Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?

And once again, the two women's voices harmonized and blended, making Harry feel more at peace then he had all year. And yet he wondered: how? Why did they affect them so much? It reminded him of his experience with the veela last year at the World Cup - were these women part veela?

His feet were moving of their own accord, and Cho looked completely content as she swayed to the rhythm. Everyone at the Seges was dancing, and they all looked as carried away as Harry felt. Even Draco was smiling, a real smile with no malice. It was perhaps this that made Harry feel most uncomfortable. It was as if they'd all fallen under the spell of the _Imperius _curse, topped off with a rather strong Cheering Charm

As the guitar began to wail in a break in the song, Harry found himself staring at the lead singer Lauren. She looked as though she was scarcely making an effort, and was completely unaware of the affect her music was having on the pub at large. As Harry watched, he was stunned to see that suddenly their eyes met above the crowd, and unmistakably _she winked._

As the song came to a crashing halt, while the two voices seemed to hold the last note for an eternity, Harry let go of Cho's hand. "I need to get something else to drinkyou need anything?" he said in her ear.

She gave him a quizzical look, before answering "Water."

Harry left the dance floor as the guitars began playing again. Making his way to the gleaming bar counter, he placed his request for two waters with Rene and waited. A tap on his shoulder made his head jerk around, and then he almost yelled in surprise. "Bill? What are you doing here?"

"Keeping an eye on things," Bill Weasley said easily, looking amused. Seeing Harry's suspicious look he clarified quickly. "Not on you lot, although I think Fred and George might warrant a bit of extra supervision tonight." Fred and Angelina were dancing so energetically that they had cleared a five foot circle around them, while George and Katie seemed to be undertaking some sort of odd tango. 

"What, then?" Harry asked.

Bill finished his drink and looked at Harry. "Think, Harry - do you really believe Dumbledore would let something as well known as the Seges go down without any supervision now that Voldemort's back?"

When Bill said it like that, Harry supposed they had been a bit stupid not to realize this. When he asked which teachers were involved, Bill shook his head. "Almost nonethey wanted you all to be free to enjoy yourselves."

"Plus they didn't want to deal with the twins?" Harry guessed, laughing.

"That too." Bill grinned. "Trust me, you'll never find them - they're extremely well hidden." His eyes drifted back to the band, and settled on Lauren in particular.

"Do you know them?" Harry asked, curious to know if anyone else had the same suspicions he did regarding the band.

"Not well.Rene said they were big in the States though." He shrugged and looked mischievous. "A welcome export, in my opinion."

"Yeah." Harry looked down at the glasses of water in his hands. "Something about the way they singmakes me uncomfortable."

"Harry, just relax. It's a bit overwhelming I know, but rest assured, Rene wouldn't have booked them if they weren't completely aboveboard."

"So you noticed something too?" he said quickly.

"Yes, but you're not here for a lesson about magical creatures. You only get one first Seges, Harry - go enjoy it." Bill gave him a little prod in the back. "Go on - your pretty girlfriend is looking a bit lost."

"Oh, she's not my-" but Bill had reached for the hand of a woman sitting next to him at the bar and was leading her out onto the dance floor. Shaking his head, Harry carried the waters back to the table. Cho spied him and made her way over.

"Thanks," she said, swallowing it gratefully. "They're really great, aren't they?" she asked, her dark eyes shining. 

"Yeah, great" Harry said quickly, not wanting to spoil her good mood.

"You know, I thought about not coming tonight. It just seemed too hard, but now" she smiled at him, "I'm really glad I did."

"Right," said Harry. This was making him more and more uncomfortable. Something about their voices; they seemed to be prodding his brain, and telling him to forget his worries and relax. _I won't!_ he thought fiercely.

As the song ended, the next one began, this one much slower. "Want to dance?" Cho asked, not looking as though she'd take 'no' for an answer. Harry nodded, resolutely following her onto the dance floor. The fast dancing had been all well and good, but this was the kind of dancing he just abhorred. He took Cho's hand, and placed the other around her waist. She rested her head against his shoulder, and seemed to lose herself in the haunting music.

__

And if I shed a tear I won't cage it. I won't fear love.

And if I feel a rage I won't deny it. I won't fear love.

Despite his resistance, he could feel the pull of their music, their words, making him feel so easy, so comfortable. As he danced, he saw that Ron and Hermione looked equally oblivious to everything around them. Without warning, Ron suddenly leaned in and kissed Hermione. Harry felt frozen, somehow unable to look away. Hermione's eyes were wide with shock, before she relaxed into the kiss, and wrapped an arm around Ron's neck, pulling him closer.

"Harry? You all right?" Cho asked curiously. He'd stopped dancing.

"Oh!" Harry couldn't tell her what he'd just seen. Instead, he grimly began dancing again, and didn't look at Ron and Hermione for a long time.

At one in the morning, the Spirit Room's guitars played a last chord, and then stopped. The Seges party clapped hard, cheering and yelling for more. Lauren held up a hand, and Harry noticed she looked surprisingly animated for someone who had been singing almost non-stop for the better part of five hours. "Thanks...we'll see you again soon. And fifth years, if the rest get too rowdy, just let them crawl home - it'll do them good." Harry and his classmates cheered, and the band Disapparated with a pop.

"Go on now, yeh've got a bit of a walk home," Rene re-appeared to help the younger students propel some of their more inebriated senior members towards the doors. To Harry's relief, he saw that Fred and George were walking completely on their own power, although Fred was wearing quite a bit of Angelina's lipstick, and George and Katie appeared to be rather giggly. 

"I'd say we got off easy - Warrington passed out cold! Imagine trying to carry that lump, especially as dead weight?" Ron asked.

"Really!" Harry laughed by way of agreement. Seamus and Lavender were helping Alicia to guide Lee out the door, as he seemed to finding the mere act of moving his feet something of a mystery. Overall, though, Gryffindor house was more or less intact and walking home unaided.

"A whole night with the Slytherins and not one nasty comment, not one vile remark!" Hermione said, shaking her head as the walked up the darkened streets of Hogsmeade. "Think we could get the Spirit Room to play in the Great Hall every meal?"

Harry shrugged and said to Ron, "Bill was here - did you see him?"

"Really?" Ron looked stunned. "Weird - he didn't come over and say 'Hi' or anything - was he lost?"

"Not exactly." In a low voice, Harry told them what Bill had said about Dumbledore arranging to have the Seges party supervised.

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?" Hermione said, matter of factly. "According to Rene, Seges is 200 years old and that would mean all the Death Eaters know about it." She gave Cho a quick searching glance. "This isn't bothering you, is it?"

"No." Cho said firmly, matching their pace. "For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm in charge of myself, and not just waiting for something else to happen."

No one seemed to know quite how to answer that. They walked the rest of the way in silence, listening to Lee Jordan sing "Do the Hustle" all the way back to the castle. He didn't really know the words, but insisted on singing the familiar refrain over and over, and over again. Even when they neared the castle, Lee showed no signs of refraining from his one-man act.

"Oh, really now - he'll wake the whole castle!" Hermione said, caught between amusement and annoyance.   
"Hermione! Help me out!" Alicia hissed. "Lee, for the love of Goddisco's deadlet it go!"

"But I love the night life - I wanna boogie," he sang to her, before patting her face with his hand. "Such a sweet Alicia - you're really going to kill me in the morning, aren't you?"

"You're assuming I'll wait," she said kindly. "Might be better for you if we just put you out of your misery nowHeaven knows how you'll ever live down that John Travolta imitation."

Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket. "Here," she said, moving to Lee's side. "_Quietus!_ "

Lee's mouth opened but barely a peep came out. "Thanks - I owe you!" Alicia said gratefully, as she led Lee up the stairs.

In the entrance hall, Ron shot Harry a smirk as he and Hermione headed for the stairs and bed. "See you in a bit," Harry called softly after them. He followed Cho to the stairs that led off to the Ravenclaw dorm, then stood awkwardly looking down at her. "Well."

"Yes. Well." Cho blushed, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, Harry. You're a good friend." With that, she hurried up the stairs, leaving Harry to stare after her.

He leaned against the cool marble of the stairs, and thought about what she'd said..._'For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm in charge of myself, and not just waiting for something else to happen.' _Maybe that's what bothered him so much about Lauren's voice, it made him feel as though he was most definitely _not_ in charge. The music had been beautiful, to be sure, and had left him longing to give in to it completely, and yet.

Shaking his head, Harry slowly made his way up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. 

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, and the prodigious Unregistered .

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	10. Siren's Song Chapter 10

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. (I'd like to add here my sincere request that the report I read about the delaying of book five was a hoax designed to ensure me of having a bad day! Come on, Jo - It's been TWO YEARS!!!! We're all in withdrawal!!!!) To my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - my eternal thanks and praise.

Author's note: I stole the concept of 'Absolut Quidditch' from Cassandra Claire's work _Draco Veritas. _waves her thanks 

As Harry stepped through the portrait hole, he was startled to see that despite the late hour, quite a number of Gryffindors were still awake. Hermione and Ron had settled themselves in front of the fire, talking in low voices. Fred and George Weasley were laying on the floor, speaking in relatively normal voices to Angelina and Katie, who sat next to them. Seamus and Lavender were sitting a little bit away from the group, and were completely oblivious to their surroundings: Lavender was curled up in Seamus' lap, and he was whispering in her ear. Obviously more then one romantic coupling would be attributed to the Seges party. As Harry walked over to join Ron and Hermione, he felt a hand hesitantly rest on his shoulder. Even before he turned around, he knew who it would be.

Ginny was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that she had obviously stolen from one of her brothers. It was so long it almost reached her knees, and she'd had to turn the cuffs back several times to keep them from completely obscuring her hands. The words "Chudley Cannons" were emblazoned across her chest in slightly faded orange. "Have a good time?" she asked, making an effort to sound casual.

"Better then the Yule Ball, at least." Seeing her eyes widen, he shrugged. "I didn't stomp Cho's feet into mush, which is an improvement on my overall dancing skills. Points for that, I suppose."

"Glad to hear it," Ginny said, looking doubtful. "You don't seem to be in a very good mood for someone who had such a jolly time."

Harry looked away, and found himself staring at Hermione and Ron. They had yet to notice he'd even come in, and Ron looked very serious as he reached over to lace Hermione's fingers in his own. Unable to watch, he looked down at Ginny. "Care to go for a walk?" he asked.

She stared at him. "I promise we won't get caught," Harry said quickly. "Just let me get something." Without waiting for an answer, he dashed up the stairs for his dorm room. 

Tossing open the lid of his trunk, he easily located the silky folds of the Invisibility Cloak, even in the dark. Harry slid off his dress robes and folded them none-too-neatly before shoving them into a corner of the trunk. He was having difficulty getting the memory of Ron and Hermione kissing out of his head. _I'm not jealous_, he told himself fiercely. And as soon as he thought the words, he realized that the emotion he'd been experiencing was most definitely _not_ jealousy. 

He knew jealousy. He'd been almost eaten up with it last year when he'd seen Cedric and Cho holding hands in the corridors last year after the Yule Ball. No, this was a far more familiar sensation. This was fearfear of losing his friends, the people who had kept him sane for the last 4 years. _What about me? _The same thought kept running through his head, as he angrily slammed down the lid of the trunk, and caught the tip of his finger.

"Owww!" Harry hissed, cursing under his breath. The pain radiated through his hand, but it was somehow a distraction to the sharp catch in his chest he felt whenever he thought of Ron and Hermione.

He slumped to the floor, leaning his head back against the bed. He'd known this day would comethe day when they were caught up in their own world. And now that it had he wanted nothing more then to turn back the clock, and return to the safe world they had known before...when their triangle of friendship had somehow insulated him from almost every pain, and even Voldemort. A hot tear made its way down his cheek, which he brushed away angrily. _It's called growing up, you pratget used to it._ The voice in his head wasn't exactly gentle in its reprimand.

Harry sat with his head bowed for a number of minutes, thinking hard and playing with the folds of his cloak. When he finally got to his feet, something in his face had changed. He actually had the ghost of a smile playing around his lips as he headed down the stairs, a smile that widened when he spied the familiar flash of red hair waiting for him by the door. "Ready?" he asked.

Harry and Ginny made their way out of the castle and towards the lake. Once they were safely out of sight from the castle, Harry pulled the cloak off. "This is incredible," Ginny told him, fingering the cloak. Harry told her about receiving the cloak his first Christmas at Hogwarts. "That explains it!" Ginny said triumphantly.

"What?" Harry asked, settling down on a large rock beside the lake and indicating that she should do likewise.

"I always wondered how on earth you, Ron and Hermione managed to do all the stuff you did without getting caught!" she explained. "I mean, not even Fred and George get into as much trouble as you three."

"Difference being, Fred and George look for trouble," Harry said. "Somehow it always just found the three of us." He tossed a rock towards the lake as he spoke. 

Ginny was silent for a long moment, then spoke. "You're thinking about how that's going to change, aren't you?" she said softly.

"Well, yeah," Harry said slowly. "They're not going to want to pull those sorts of stunts nowthe only sneaking off they're likely to want to do is to snog in the Astronomy Tower-" 

Ginny cut him off. "Harry, for heaven's sake, they're not running off and getting married!" she exclaimed. "They're a couple now, but I don't see why that should make you so upset." Her eyes widened. "Unless you like Herm-"

"No," Harry said firmly. "Hermione and Ron are meant to be together, I know that. I think I knew it before they did, although it was really obvious after the Ball last year."

"So why," Ginny asked him softly, "do you look like you've lost your best friend?"

Harry didn't answer. She rose to her feet, and stood directly in front of him. "Ron's never really had a best friend before, you know," Ginny said softly. "I remember how excited he was in his letters to Mum after he met you. And that's never changed, Harry. I think he's closer to you then to any of my brothers." She swallowed. "He'd no sooner give up on you then he'd start raising giant attack spiders. If anything, I think that if you told him to give up Hermione, he'd do itit would kill him, but that's just how he is."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want that."

"You just don't want things to change," Ginny said.

"It's stupid, I know that," Harry said, sounding whiny even to his own ears. "And I hate feeling like this! I'm really happy for them, Ginny, it's just."

"I know," she looked out over the moonlit lake. "Growing up right sucks some days."

Harry laughed as he stood and caught her by the wrist. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "It's good to get that off my chest."

She shrugged. "I thought that's what we were here for."

"Not entirely." Surprising himself with his boldness, he reached up to brush a stray hair back from her face. "You know, I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had."

"Must be some sort of record," she nodded solemnly. "I'd say it even calls for a celebration of some sort."

"That it does," he pulled her close, and breathed in the scent of her hair. "You're not going to ask anymore about tonight, are you?"

"Only if you feel like sharing," she said, sounding a little breathless.

"Maybe later." And then he kissed her. 

The feeling of her warmth pressed against him was enough to make him slightly dizzy. He pulled her closer, sliding one hand up behind her neck and the other around her slight waist. As if in response, Ginny's hands tightened around him. Harry heard a roaring in his ears, and as their tongues brushed hesitantly against one another, felt an explosion in his chest. 

Gasping, they finally fell away from one another. Ginny ran a shaky hand through her hair. "You kissed me."

"You could say that." Harry's voice sounded as though it came from a million miles away.

"No, Harry, _you_ kissed _me_." Her eyes were bright. 

He pulled her back against his chest then, and held her tightly. "I plan to do it a lot more, if that's all right with you."

They spent several hours by the lake, talking and kissing. He told her about his evening with Cho, and how despite his worries, they both seemed to be working on putting the events of last year behind them. He told her about The Spirit Room, and his reaction to them. Far from thinking that he was out of his mind, she seemed to understand. "Well, after last year it's only natural that you'd hate the idea of anyone trying to control you in any way," she said logically. "I think that's why you were able to throw off the _Imperius _when almost no one else in your year couldonce you've been exposed to the power of the Dark arts, and know what they can do, it's part of your defense mechanism."

"How'd you know about that?" he asked, startled.

"Moody told me, well the fake Moody did anywayI was getting extra tutoring from him after hours last year, and it came up when he teaching me about the Unforgivables."

"I thought he was only teaching that to the fourth years and up," Harry said with a frown.

"He was," Ginny said simply. "And me." Seeing Harry's shocked expression, she explained. "Ever since that bit first year, with Tom, I swore I'd never let my guard down about the Dark Arts again. I went and asked him to help me, and he agreed. In retrospect, I don't know why he did it," she shrugged. "Unless he thought it might blow his cover to refuse."

__

That explains a lot, Harry thought. He'd been wondering where this more assured Ginny had come from and now he knew. It was damned hard to remain shy and reserved when you'd faced down your worst nightmares. If she'd sought out getting extra lessons in DADA, she'd been forced to recognize exactly scared her and learned to deal with it. "What did he teach you, exactly?" Harry asked.

"Well, let's just say you're not the only one who can throw off an _Imperius _curse_._" Ginny grinned.

"You're kidding!" Harry was impressed.

"I told you, I'm never going to let someone use their powers against me again." Her voice hardened slightly. "Do you have any idea what it felt like, to be used like that, and just so some deranged megalomaniac could get a thrill in destroying you?" 

"I might," Harry said, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Oh, Harry!" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Of course you do - I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Ginny, it's ok," Harry assured her. "It's refreshing actually, to talk to someone who understands what it feels like."

"Harry, what Tom Riddle did to me, and what Voldemort did to you aren't even remotely in the same league," she said hotly.

"He would have killed you," Harry said somberly. "He tried to kill me. I'd say they're equally ranked on the reasons for loathing scale."

She smiled, and looked at her watch, before jumping to her feet with a soft gasp. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Early," he smiled at her. "Or late, depending on how you look at it."

"It's after three in the morning! We're heading back up, right now! Come on!" she pulled him to his feet. "Oh, the Fat Lady's going to have herself a right hissy fit"

"Ginny." Harry said softly. She stopped what she was saying to look at him curiously. "Thanks."

She smiled. "Let's see how much you're thanking me when you fall asleep over your eggs tomorrow."

He gave her one last quick kiss. "Even if I spend the day picking them out of my hair, it's worth it." With that, he slipped the cloak over the heads, and holding hands, they walked silently back up to the castle.

The Fat Lady was less then pleased about being woken up. "Where on earth have you two been?" she asked them, her eyes narrowing. "Miss Weasley, I'd have expected more from you then sneaking in at such an ungodly hour!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "It's still earlier then when my mother used to get in, isn't it?"

"Yes, well-"Unable to come up with a good argument for that, the portrait swung forward and they made their way into the now deserted Common Room. 

"Goodnight," Ginny whispered as they reached the top of the stairs that led off to their separate dorm rooms.

"Wait." Harry tugged her hand, and pulled her close for one last kiss before she pulled away giggling. "I think you've created a monster, Miss Weasley." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her, and she giggled.

"But I like you so much better then the usual ones." Blowing him a kiss, she ducked under his arm and hurried towards her room.

Smiling, Harry let himself into his own room, and made his way through the dark to his bed. Had it only been a few hours since he'd sat there, wondering if he'd be spending the rest of his years at Hogwarts playing second-fiddle to Ron and Hermione's relationship? Who had that whiny, self-absorbed little boy been, anyway? He knew now - just because Ron and Hermione were together didn't mean he had to slink away into the shadows. It just meant that their circle had changed a bit. And now, that circle had expanded.now it included Ginny. She'd always been just outside it, and as easily as if he had opened a door, she was inside. He pulled off his clothes, changed into his pyjamas and crawled thankfully into bed. 

Hedwig woke him earlier then he would have liked, nibbling on his ear to get his attention. "Good morning," he yawned, taking the letter from her. "I'm out of treats, but if you come to the Hall during breakfast I'll make it up to you." She hooted in understanding and then sailed out the window. The sun was just starting to rise, and he walked over towards the faint light spilling through the shades to read his post.

__

Harry - 

I hope you had a fun time at Seges. I'll be out on the grounds after breakfast. Meet me by the broomshed. We need to talk.

It was signed with a pawprint. Harry ran a hand over his face. _So much for sleeping in. _He couldn't risk running late and missing Sirius; there was so much he wanted to tell his godfather. Still yawning, Harry made his way through the halls to the fourth floor and prefect's bathroom, wanting nothing more then a very hot shower.

To his shock, he wasn't the only one there. Draco Malfoy was standing at the sink shaving, wearing a dark green bathrobe. "Potter," he grunted by way of greeting.

"Malfoy," Harry answered. Not feeling up to a verbal assault so early, he quickly got into the shower, and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. It had the desired affect, and after fifteen minutes of it pounding into his flesh he felt wide awake. When he pulled on his own robe and made his way to the sinks, he was annoyed to see that Malfoy was still there. "Need a copy of_ Shaving for Dummies _?" Harry suggested. "Might make it go a bit faster."

"Owch, that stung." Malfoy snorted. "I could say the same for you, or were you trying to work off some frustration in that shower?" His cold eyes glittered. "You and Chang have a good time, lover boy? Did you manage to make her forget about Diggory for a few minutes?"

Harry ignored him, and worked the soap into a lather as Sirius had shown him.

"What, no witty comeback? Or do you need the luscious Granger for that?" Finished with his own morning grooming, Draco seemed in no hurry to leave the bathroom. "You should have seen your face when Weasley took the plunge and kissed her last nightguess that's one fantasy you'll have to forego." He leaned over and said softly, "Unless I've been right about the three of you all along, and that was some sort of group foreplay?"

Slamming his razor against the sink, Harry turned and said coldly, "This fixation you've got on Hermione can't be good for your sex life, Malfoy. Or does Blaise not mind competing with the ghost of what you'll never have?"

Malfoy's face went red but his voice was silky. "Lofty concept, Potter, but Granger is just like every other girl in this schoolshe's dying for a bad boy to shock the hell out of her prudery. Pity you and Weasley can never measure up."

  
Harry turned, feeling that hot sick rush on anger he'd felt last year when Malfoy had made his crack about Cedric's death. Just when it looked like a good fistfight might be breaking out, they were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Roger Davies. "Up early this morning, boys?" he asked cheerily. "Or is this a daily meeting?"

Glowering, Draco left the bathroom. Harry finished his shaving and headed back for Gryffindor tower. He was so caught up in his silent fuming about Malfoy's comments he didn't watch where he was going and walked straight into Hermione. "Watch it!" she squealed, dropping the small bucket that held her toiletries. "Oh! Harry" He'd never seen her look so flustered. "We wondered where you were last nightwhen did you get back?"

"Late," he said, smiling at the memory. Hermione gave him an astonished look. "You and Cho?" she asked, not finishing the question.

"Not exactly. Listen, I'll tell you later." Lowering his voice, he explained about the letter from Sirius. 

"Of course, I'll see you after." She headed for the girl prefect's bathroom, calling after him "And I expect to hear everything!"

"Right." _Everything. Was she kidding? That'll take more then a few minutes to cover._ He whistled through his teeth. _And that's assuming I get through the part where Ginny and I spent a few hours by the lake snogging without Ron going into over-protective brother mode. _He wondered if any of the Weasleys' knew about Ginny's extra tutoring in DADA. Somehow he doubted it.

Ginny was already at the Gryffindor table when Harry entered the Great Hall. "Morning," she smiled at him.

"Up early, aren't you?" Harry asked, sitting down next to her. "I thought you'd have a bit of a lie-in."

"Couldn't sleep." Her eyes were dancing. "You?"

"Um, yeah, me neither." He'd sound like a real prick if he said 'Actually, I slept like the dead until my owl decided to give my ear a good tap.' As she handed him the plate of scrambled eggs, their hands brushed and that unmistakable electric spark flared between them again. Harry watched as her pink tongue flicked out to lick those lips, and realized he was holding his breath. 

"Earth to Harry, come in Potter." The sound of someone snapping their fingers next to his ear nearly made him spill the platter of golden eggs into his lap. "Whoah, bit jumpy this morning?" Ron sat down next to him, and caught the plate before Harry dropped it. 

"Something like that." He noticed Ginny's dreamy expression and gave her a gentle nudge with his foot. She started, and then nodded. No need to give everything away just yet. "So, did you have a good time last night?" she asked her brother.

"Did I?" Ron grinned. "It was beyond super-cool...Tell you what, Harry, I think the Hog's Head may just become my new pub of choice! Did you taste the mead? Made the Three Broomsticks' taste like old dishwater by comparison."

"Mead does taste like old dishwater." Ginny said, raising an eyebrow. "And exactly how much of that lovely swill did you partake in?"

"Oh, don't go getting your knickers in a twist, I just had a bitit's Fred and George you should be pounding on. 'Course, I heard they spent half the night up with Lee."

"Is he ok?" Ginny asked, looking concerned.

"Aside from asking for someone to remove his head and throw it off North Tower, he seemed fine." Ron chortled. "Last I saw him, he was laying face down in the loo, praying that the porcelain gods would just come and finish him off."

"Who was?" Hermione asked, joining them.

"Lee." Ron actually stopped eating - a first for him - to give Hermione a smile. "Hey, you." His voice sounded almost tender.

She blushed, and looked at Ginny with some concern. "Were you ok last night? I didn't hear you come in, and you weren't there when I went up to bed."

"Fine," said Ginny brightly, while Harry concentrated on his toast. "I was in the library, and lost track of time."

"On a Saturday?" Ron said, sounding horrified.

"How did you stay so late?" Hermione asked casually. "Did you get special permission from Madam Pince?"

"Er, yes." Ginny reddened and looked to Harry for help. 

"Actually, I ran into Ginny on her way back from the library and we were up for a bit, talking." Harry said easily. "We hadn't caught up in ages, and then it was really late."

"Oh." Ron looked relieved.

"Anyway, I'm off." Harry said, standing. Seeing Ron's puzzled look, he said in a low voice, "Meeting Snuffles."

"Right," Ron said in the same voice. "Tell him Hi for us."

Harry nodded, and gave Ginny a quick smile as he headed for the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione lean forward to engage Ginny in some intense questioning the moment he was out of earshot. It would probably have been easier just to tell them what had actually happened, but neither he nor Ginny seemed to be in a hurry about making their new relationship public knowledge.

Harry hurried out the front doors and across the lawns to the student's broomshed, a massive wooden structure that housed the brooms of every student on the campus. Each house had it's own side of the building, painted in the distinctive colours of Ravenclaw blue, Hufflepuff gold, Gryffindor scarlet, and Slytherin emerald. The doors on each house's shed was, like their common rooms, password protected. This was to prevent, in Dumbledore's words, "competition-inspired pranks", which the students (excluding Slytherins, of course) called "out and out cheating". This dated back to 1465 when the entire Ravenclaw team had discovered, to their horror, that their racing brooms had been replaced by common Muggle house brooms before the finals of that year's Quidditch cup.

Harry hadn't been to the shed since he'd lost his Nimbus 2000, as it was just too risky to house the Firebolt there. He hurried around to the Gryffindor side and looked around anxiously. He appeared to have arrived before Sirius. Yawning, he settled himself against the scarlet door to wait for his godfather.

Just as he was starting to doze off in the warm morning sun, voices jerked him awake. 

"So you thought it went well last night, Lena?" 

"Better then I could have dreamed, actually. The students were safe, and no one the wiser as just how protected they were. I was almost surprised at how smoothly the whole thing went off."

"Add to that the fact Lauren managed to take in a number of new admirers to her flock of drooling groupies, and it must have been a complete success."

"Yeah, Severus, 'cause you weren't putting on quite the ripping show with those drums." 

"Jealous, old girl?"

"Your fantasy." 

"I hate to disappoint you, but my fantasies could never centre around something so mundane."

There was a snort, and then the voices drew closer. Harry peered around the side of the shed.

He recognized Snape and Velange, walking with a woman who could only be Lauren - the lead singer from the Spirit Room. Her brilliant red hair was hanging down to her shoulders, and she was wearing a combination of Muggle and wizard clothing: this time a pair of very faded jeans and a rather tight t-shirt that read "Absolut Quidditch", with a pair of Clark's sandals on her feet. It made for quite the contrast with the black robes that both Professor Velange and Snape were wearing.

"It's so nice to see that some things never change." Professor Velange looked as though she was trying not to laugh. "Honestly you two! Go work off the sexual tension already - the rest of us are exhausted from years of ducking out of the way."

"Are you mad?" shrieked Lauren, just as Snape growled "Excuse me?"

"It really can't be healthy, all that repression," Velange continued as though she hadn't heard them. "It explains so much about your adult personalities, however. For example, your complete inability to settle down with anyone mentally older then 12, Lauren, and as for you, Severus-"

"Oh, you and your psycho-babble." Lauren snapped. "That's the Pot calling the kettle dirty-bottomed and you know it, Lena."

"If you two are quite through discussing the 9 1/2 ways you'd like to shag me senseless," Snape interrupted, and Harry was surprised to see that he was smiling. "There's still the issue of-" 

Just then, a huge black dog bounded towards Harry's side, cracking a branch at his feet and making all three heads turn in his direction. Snape's smile instantly vanished. "Potter," he said in his familiar nasty tone, "What are you doing down here?"

"I, um, came to go through the school broomsneed to find a pair for my two first-year reserves."

"You put first years in as reserves?" Lauren raised an eyebrow. "Gutsy."

Snape's eyes were on the dog. Sirius, Harry noticed, was sitting and staring at the two women.

"My god! He's huge!" Lauren said, spotting the dog. "Is he yours?"

"Yes, - well, sort of," Harry said. "He's a stray from town. We feed him."

"He's a menace," Snape put in nastily. The dog growled at him.

"A menace that's an excellent judge of character," Lauren shot back at him. She looked at Professor Velange, who was still staring at the dog. "You all right?"

"What? Oh, fine." She looked a bit pale. "Harry, forgive my lack of manners. This is Lauren Velange - my sister."

"Sister?" Harry was startled, and then as soon as the thought spun through his mind, he cursed himself for not noticing before. Both women had red hair, and the same green eyes, not to mention their faces were extremely similar in shape. Even their voices sounded alike. He supposed it had been the difference in their styles that had kept him from noticing. Lauren Velange wore Muggle cosmetics, and had hair that reminded him of a dancing red hot coal as it careened its way in long curls down to her shoulders. Professor Velange was far more demure in appearance, and her hair was short, curling about her face. And yet, how had he missed their similarities before now?

"Twin sister, actually." Lauren smirked. "I know, it's shockingly hard to believe."

"A little," Harry answered her quietly. "I think it's the hair."

Lauren burst out laughing, and turned to her sister. "Subtle. I like him." She grinned at Harry. "How much did she pay you to say that?"

"Half a sack full of galleons," Harry answered, smiling back.

Snape cleared his throat. "As much as I hate to end this little party, Lauren, Professor Velange and I have a teacher's meeting in a few minutes."

"Right you are." Lauren turned back to Harry and rolled her eyes in Snape's direction. "Somethings never change," she muttered before stepping forward and holding out a hand for Harry to shake. "Pleasure to meet you, Harry." As the two teachers turned and started back up towards the castle Lauren hurried after them calling "See you in town!" over her shoulder.

Harry was still for a moment, and then jumped as Sirius resumed his normal form. 

"Are you mad?" Harry hissed, running to open the door of the Gryffindor broomshed. "Patchouli!" he hissed, and angrily beckoned his godfather inside. "What if someone had seen you?"

Sirius didn't appear to have heard a word he said. Instead, he headed for the chair next to the desk that Madam Hooch used to store her inventories and sat down, running a shaking hand through his dark hair. "My god," he muttered to no one.

"What? Harry asked. When Sirius didn't answer, Harry went and stood directly in front of him and said urgently, "Sirius, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry, Harry, I don't know what I was thinking," Sirius said, straightening and giving him his full attention. "How was the Seges?" he asked, mustering up a smile.

"Ok," Harry answered, leaning against the desk, not convinced that everything was all right. "Lauren's band played."

"They did?" Somehow this didn't appear to sit well. "How were they?"

"It was weird, actually." Harry explained how the voices had made him feel. "It was ok, at first, actually it was beautiful, and thenI don't know, it just felt as though they were trying to get inside my head."

"What were they trying to tell you?" Sirius asked sharply.

"Nothing horrible, just to relax and let go." Harry looked at him suspiciously. "Do you know them?"

"In a manner of speaking." The haunted look had returned to Sirius's eyes. "Did you see who the other singer was?"  
"No, she was wearing a hood." It was as though a light had gone on in Harry's brain. "But who else could it have been besides Professor Velange? I heard Lauren say something about Snape on the drums, but if that was him he must have been using Polyjuice potion or something 'cause he didn't look a bit like himself." Harry frowned. "Bill Weasley said there were teachers there for our protection...do you think that's why Velange and Snape were there?"

"Possibly." Sirius seemed very far away. 

Harry waited, then plunged ahead. "You said you had to talk to me?"

"Oh, right." Sirius looked grim. "I wanted to tell you before you read about it in the papers, although Fudge is doing his damndest to keep that from happening. Arabella Figg has gone missing for three days now, as have two members of the Unspeakables, who it is believed Arabella had convinced to work undercover, posing as Death Eaters."

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked, his voice sounding very far away. "Do you think Voldemort's killed her, like he killed Bertha Jorkins?"

"I can't answer that, Harry. Arabella has many years experience working as an Auror. It is possible Voldemort is using her for information."

Harry, remembering the amount of grousing he did about Mrs. Figg growing up, felt a rush of guilt. Desperate to keep the surge of emotions from engulfing him, he asked slowly "How exactly does Fudge hope to keep it out of the papers? I mean, two Unspeakables going missing is sure to raise a few eyebrows."

"Fudge is terrified that people will find out that Voldemort is back, so he's forbidden the Ministry to release the information."

"Then how did you find out?"

"Molly Weasley owled me the moment Arthur told her. Dumbledore's supporters are a close-knit bunch, Harry - we try and stay as informed as possible." He stood up. "Anyway, I can't stay too long. Can't risk anyone seeing me."

"This from the man who nearly blew his cover in full daylight?" Harry asked sardonically.

Sirius ignored him, and headed for the door. Then he turned to look at Harry. "I want to know if anything unusual happens at Hogwarts this year. That means anything and everything that isn't part of the daily routinesomething tells me this is just the start of Voldemort's plans, whatever they might be, and if he managed to get one spy inside these walls last year, I doubt he will hesitate to try again." His voice softened as he looked at his godson. "I wish I could tell you that this year will be completely different from last year, Harry, but so long as that madman lives, he will do everything in his power to destroy you. My job is to prevent that. Do you understand?"

Harry was a little taken aback by the intensity in Sirius' eyes. "Of course," he said quickly, "but what-" he tried to say, but Sirius had already changed and was out the door.

Harry sat down in the chair Sirius had just vacated, and rested his head against his hands. Something was clearly up, and not all of it was about Mrs. Figg and the two Ministry members' disappearances. He hadn't seen Sirius look so shaken since his third year, when Harry was accusing him of murdering his parents. And Harry had the very strong impression it revolved around Professor Velange

Standing, Harry headed back up to the castle. _I hope Hermione plans to spend some serious time in the library this year,_ he thought fiercely.

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle and the prodigious Unregistered .

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	11. Siren's Song Chapter 11

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested. I had to modify some romantic fiction titles, and thank YGTS for the inspiration, namely Gileswench, Kassie, Kirsty, and Ragna. (You can find their work at http://www.four-am.com/stones/ )

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. (I'd like to add here my sincere request that the report I read about the delaying of book five was a hoax designed to ensure me of having a bad day! Come on, Jo - It's been TWO YEARS!!!! We're all in withdrawal!!!!) To my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - my eternal thanks and praise.

In the weeks that followed, Harry had little time to think about Professor Velange, or Sirius's reaction to her presence. He was working flat out just to make it through the mind-boggling amount of classwork he was assigned, in addition to his after-hour lessons with Moody, the Potions sessions with Malfoy and of course, Quidditch practice. 

Professor McGonagall had been as good as her word. She observed the first team practice from the bleachers, her mouth pursed in a tight line. After thirty minutes, Harry was unable to stand the suspense. "Spot me, Neville," he called as he landed with a thud, hitting the ground somewhat harder then he had planned to in his eagerness to find out whether or not McGonagall approved of the team roster.

To his surprise, she gave him a slight smile as he took a seat next to her. "I stand corrected, Potter. The O'Toole's are natural players, and will serve as excellent reserves. And while Longbottom was a bit of a surprise choice for a reserve Seeker, he appears to be far more graceful in the air then I could have ever expected." Her attention returned to the field, and she said slowly "I suppose you're feeling a bit apprehensive about facing Hufflepuff?"

"Well, yeah," Harry said, feeling awkward about discussing this with a teacher. "I mean, we haven't played them sincewell, you know."

"Since Cedric's victory. I won't deny it will be a difficult match for you mentally, Potter. However, I don't think it would serve you much good to delay the inevitable." She lay a gentle hand on his arm. "Surely you know that no one blames you for Cedric's death, Harry." Harry couldn't speak - he couldn't remember McGonagall _ever_ calling him by his first name. "Professor Sprout and I have discussed holding a moment of silence to remember Cedric before the start of the matchhow would you feel about that?"

Harry felt a great lump rise in his throat, and he struggled to answer normally. "I think Cedric would have liked that very much, Professor."

"Good. It's settled then." She rose, and gave him a quick searching look. "I am very pleased to accept this roster, Potter. Excellent work." With that, she left the stands, and Harry quickly headed back to the field. Seeing him return, the entire team headed back for the ground, and gathered around him.

"What did she say?" asked Michael, looking nervous.

"She's not going to make us wait 'till next year, is she?" Meghan asked anxiously.

"Noactually she commented on what excellent reserves you both were," Harry said, smiling a bit at their apprehensive faces.

"It's me, then, isn't it?" Neville put in. "She thinks I'll crash into the stands, or fall on Madam Hooch, or something, doesn't she?"

"No," Harry said, staring around at the grave faces around him. "Honestly, what's gotten into you lot? She was fine with the roster."

"Then why did you two look so serious just now?" Ron asked, frowning. 

"She wanted to discuss having a moment of silence before the first match, to remember Cedric," Harry explained.

There was a long, uneasy pause. "Are you ok with that?" Angelina asked him gently.

"Absolutely," Harry said vehemently. "Cedric was a great player, I think this is the best way to remember him." Seeing his teammates unconvinced expressions, he sighed. "Seriously, I think it's a great idea." He changed the subject. "Ok, change it up - Meghan, you spot Angelina, Ginny - you spot Alicia. Seamus and Dean-"

"We know our positions, Harry." Seamus grinned at him. "Unless you wanted us to take over for you and Ron."

"Not exactly. Ron, would you mind spotting Katie for a bit, and Michael, if you could take over as Keeper?" What Harry wanted was a quick word with the senior players. While the reserves flew into the air, Angelina, Alicia, Fred, George and Katie stayed where they were.

"I think we should do something special to show we remember Cedric." Harry said. "We played against him, and I think it would mean a lot to the Hufflepuffsshow them that they aren't the only ones who miss him."

Fred and George looked at the ground. Angelina appeared to be fighting tears. "Harry, I don't know what to say" Alicia said tremulously. 

"I think it's a wonderful idea!" Katie said, wiping her eyes surreptitiously on her hand.

"But what do we do?" Fred said slowly. "I mean, we're having a moment of silencewhat else does one do in a situation like this?"

None of them spoke. At last, Angelina said "I have an idea." 

***

October flew by in a whirl of classes, after-hours lessons, and practice sessions. Harry had begun to understand some of what Hermione had gone through their third year when she had taken every elective Hogwarts offered. His mind was so tired when he crawled into bed at night that it was only a few moments before he dropped off into sleep, a sleep free of nightmares about the evil wizard with serpentine red eyes. Before Harry realized it, he was waking up on Halloween morning. The Traditional Halloween feast was to be held that night in the Great Hall, and everyone in third year and above was looking forward to the school's first group Hogsmeade visit. Harry had been especially looking forward to this, as it meant that he and Ginny would be able to spend their afternoon together in the village. That is, if he managed to make it through the morning without strangling Draco Malfoy.

Despite his misgivings, Draco had turned out to be an excellent partner for the Impenetrable Potionmost of the time, anyway. Snape had been right - Draco really was an excellent Potions maker. He was thorough, attentive to details, and managed to catch flaws in their experiments before anything exploded. So far that term, he'd managed to prevent Harry from accidentally blowing off his eyebrows no less than three times, and had enthusiastically taken up the role of researching the effects of venoms as bases for formulas. In fact, so long as he and Harry were discussing the potion they were working on, thing between them were almost friendly. It was a different story, however, the second they stopped working on the project at hand. 

Early into their project, Harry had suspected that the formula for the Impenetrable Potion had been flawed, even with the modifications he and Draco had made on it. He had volunteered to test their most recent version of the potion on himself, and Draco, not surprisingly, had been delighted to send a series of hexes and curses in his direction to test its strength. While the minor curses had bounced off him easily, Draco's _Leper_ Curse managed to get through, severing Harry's right leg at the kneecap and making him fall forward onto his face while his leg shot across the room.

As Draco howled with laughter, Harry pulled himself upright off the cold tile floor and said "There goes my dream of ever replacing Michael Flatleywould you mind getting that?"

Still chortling, Draco retrieved the limb from over by the sink, and handed it back. "After seeing your pathetic attempts at dancing at Seges, I really think it would be more merciful on the female population to leave you like this, Potter."

"Ha bloody ha." Harry rolled his eyes, and attached the oddly bloodless leg with a tap of his wand. Standing, he ran a hand through his hair. "Obviously this still isn't strong enough for any real practical use."

"Not unless you're planning on using it against those Creevey brats or some other pathetic excuse for a wizard," Draco sneered. 

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry's response was automatic, and didn't have the usual tone of disgust that he reserved for his nemesis.

"Speaking of which," Draco dumped the rest of the potion into the sink, and then turned to face him, arms crossed. "When exactly were you planning to explain to me _why_ you're working on this ridiculous recipe?"

"I would think that would be obvious," Harry retorted. "Or didn't your father share his exploits of last spring with you?"

Draco's pale eyes glittered. "Bit risky, working with yours truly on this, isn't it?" he asked silkily.

"Not exactlyat least if I get poisoned, they'll know who to blame," Harry answered shortly.

"Not to give you a big head, Potter, but if you think I'm the only one who'd show up on that list of suspects, think again." While Draco set up another cauldron so they could try again, Harry watched him closely. Why had Snape insisted that Malfoy help him? If Snape was truly on their side, wouldn't he want to protect the knowledge of this newest weapon, assuming they could ever get it to work, from falling into the wrong hands? 

"Take a photo, Potter, it'll last longer," Draco said, not taking his eyes off the cauldron as he added their revised ingredients.

Harry didn't reply, pulling out his wand and pointing it directly at Malfoy. When Draco looked up from where he had been thumbing through a spotted reference book, he blanched. "All right, forget what I said earlieryou're really quite a graceful dancer."

"I don't know why Snape assigned this project to the two of us, Malfoy, but he did. And whether or not I like it, that means I have to trust you to some extent," Harry said slowly, not liking the thoughts that had sprung into his mind. "But if I find out you've betrayed a word about this to your pathetic excuse for a sire and his lumbering sidekicks, I will make the Marquis de Sade seem like a warm and understanding man. Are we clear?"

"You need more to back up that threat than just a menacing voice and a pointed wand, Potter-" Malfoy started, but Harry moved quickly and slammed him upside the classroom wall, his wand still aimed at his throat.

"Do. You. Understand?" Harry's eyes were like icy sparks of flint.

Malfoy glared at him. "Trust is a two-way street, Potter." His eyes darted down to where Harry's wand was a mere inch from his larynx. "I'm pretty good at playing in traffic - what about you?"

Harry let him go, feeling the adrenaline surge through him. He didn't know exactly what Malfoy had meant by that last bit, but for some reason he couldn't explain, he felt he could trust him on this. Almost.

Harry had resumed crushing bits of Erumpent horn in his pestle - they'd determined that the original sandalwood wasn't strong enough to repel anything stronger then the Curse of the Bogies, when Malfoy spoke again. "Visiting Hogsmeade this afternoon?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly, wondering where this was going.

"With Weasley, Weasley and Granger?" 

"Well, I did have to turn down that tempting invite from Bulstrode, Parkinson and Nott but we all have to make sacrifices," Harry said.

"How does Granger feel about the invasion of her turf, Potter?" Draco asked with a smile. "To have her precious threesome invaded? Force her to actually choose between you and the Weasel? She must have been devastated to find out you'd moved on to other pastures."

"You don't even know her, Malfoy!" Harry snapped. "They have a name for your condition, you know - and while imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, stalking is just downright creepy!"

"Just keep telling yourself that, Potter." An odd look crossed Draco's aristocratic features. "Remember what I said about bad boys? Believe me when I tell you, good girls find them positively irresistible." He dropped his voice and said, "Assuming she's still a good girl, of course. After spending the summer with Krum, I wouldn't bet on it"

The sound of voices made them both fall silent, although Harry continued to glare at Malfoy. _Why is he so obsessed with Hermione?_ he fumed silently. 

Snape entered then, followed by Velange. They were both laughing softly at some private joke, although the amusement on Snape's face vanished the instant he spotted Harry. Velange, however, appeared intrigued at seeing Malfoy and himself. "Catching up on potions, are we?" she smiled.

"Special project," Snape clarified. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy are working on a potion version of the Impenetrable spell."

"Really?" Velange looked impressed. "That's a great deal beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level, isn't it?" She came to stand beside Draco, peering down at their notes. A moment later, she looked at Snape. "Do you normally allow your students to experiment with Erumpent horns and powdered Manticore skin?" Her tone was harsher then usual, and Harry thought she looked angry.

"Only under special circumstances," Snape said mildly.

"Malfoy's done a great deal of research into the use of them for potions, Professor," Harry said quickly. Malfoy's ears went pink.

"I see," said Velange slowly. Her eyes were intent on Malfoy's face. "Such information is highly classified, and protected by the Ministry. I was unaware that Madam Pince was allowed to house it in the school library, even in the restricted section." Now Malfoy was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Harry wondered wildly where he had gotten his information from, if not from the library.

"My father's library houses some especially old and rare books on Potions," Draco said grudgingly. "I borrowed them to work on this." Harry stared at him, and cursed himself for not asking more about Malfoy's references. Did Lucius Malfoy suspect what Harry was working on? 

"Very resourceful of you," Velange said, her tone reminding him eerily of Professor McGonagall's when she suspected that a student was up to no good. She didn't waste any time in lingering by their cauldron, however. "I'll see you both at the Feast then, shall I?" With that, she left the room quickly, without saying so much as a 'good bye' to Snape. 

Snape stared moodily after her, before giving both boys a murderous glare and swiftly heading for his office.

"What was Velange on about?" Draco asked, sounding somewhat alarmed.

"I guess she doesn't trust your father either, Malfoy." Harry slammed his notes shut, and began packing up his bag.

"Where in blazes do you think you're going?" Draco asked, startled. "I'm not cleaning this up by myself, and anyway, we're supposed to let it simmer for twenty minutes before we add the Manticore skin-"

"I'm going to go talk to Snape, and ask him why the hell he thought I should be working on something this important with you! I don't know what I was thinking, telling myself you could be trusted!" Harry snapped. "Guess that Malfoy charm really is blinding in its affects, as I managed to forget just who I was working with - the son of a Death Eater, heir to his big evil throne." Hastily swinging up his bookbag, Harry ignored Malfoy's splutters of rage as he headed directly for Snape's office door, not bothering to knock as he swung it open.

This, it turned out, was a mistake. Harry almost yelled in surprise at the sight of his godfather's head speaking from amidst the flames in Snape's fireplace. Whirling on him, Snape pulled him roughly inside the office, and slammed the door shut. "You abysmally foolish boy!" Snape said in an icy voice that left Harry's skin crawling. "Have you any idea what you almost did?"

Harry looked from Snape to Sirius. "I'm, I'm sorry!" he managed to get out. 

Even Sirius appeared upset. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you, Harry, but Snape's right - imagine what could have happened! And in any event, you should have knocked." A malevolent grin crossed Sirius' features. "Who knows what you could have walked in on?" 

Snape glared at him. "I'll speak to you later, Black. Your godson and I need to have a word." 

"Don't think for a second that we won't finish that conversation, Snape." Sirius' expression was almost frightening as he looked at Snape, before he nodded to Harry and vanished with a faint _pop! _Snape practically shoved Harry into a high-backed chair, while he eyed him suspiciously, his slightly purple face changing back to its usual sallow colour. "For your sake, I sincerely hope I find whatever you charged in here to ask worth your complete lack of manners, Potter. You interrupted a conversation I have been trying to have for weeks, and with Black still on the run, it isn't an easy thing to rearrange."

"Sorry, Professor." Harry muttered. Snape looked taken somewhat aback, and Harry realized he had never said the word "sorry" to him in his life. Taking advantage of the Snape's momentary shock, he plunged on. "Professor Snape, why exactly did you assign Malfoy to work with me on the Impenetrable Potion? I mean, I know he's an excellent student of yours, but surely Hermione would have been a more, er, suitable choice?"

Snape didn't answer for a long moment. Finally he said in a measured tone, "I understand that Hagrid has you working on Kammels in his class?"

"Yes, but what does that-" Harry started to ask, confused, but Snape continued.

"I believe that Draco Malfoy is in your Care of Magical Creatures class, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly, still not sure where on earth Snape was headed with this.

"Do I have to really have to spell it out for you, Potter?" Snape sneered. "How did the Kammel react to Mr. Malfoy?"

"It didn't, at least, not until he insulted it." Harry answered. He stared at Snape. "Are you trying to tell me that Malfoy's not -"

"I cannot believe that I am forced to break this down for you, Potter, not after I tolerated listening to Helena Velange praise your performance in her class for the last twenty minutes!" Snape sat down across from Harry, and said in a low voice. "May I remind you that part of her class is in learning to recognize what makes a wizard chose to embrace the Dark Arts, because it might possibly give you the chance to convince them to chose the other path?" He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Harry, whose eyes widened. _Malfoy?_

Snape continued in that same low voice. "This potion has been overlooked for centuries due to its instability, Potter. Any volumes that might have been used to strengthen it have fallen into the hands of wizards who do not want it to be improved upon - a rather convenient set of events, wouldn't you agree? The largest collection of such books is kept by none other then Narcissa Malfoy, who was an outstanding Potions student during her time here. Who else would have access to it, besides her son and her husband?" He stood, and opened the door, indicating that Harry should leave. "I suggest that you follow my instructions, and find a way to work with Mr. Mafoy, or else you have as good a chance of being invited for tea by Cornelius Fudge as you do of finishing that potion. Good day, Mr. Potter." And with that, he shut the door quietly.

Malfoy was simultaneously flipping through a copy of _Which Broomstick _and copying notes on the revised potion when Harry returned to their desk. "I assume you're ready to play nice, Potter?" he asked coldly.

Harry looked at Draco. In his mind, he could see the first time they'd met at Madame Malkin's. In his own bizarre way, Draco had attempted to be friendly to him. And if Harry could somehow convince him to turn away from the master his father so willingly servedhe swallowed his pride and said, "I'll finish up here, Malfoy. No point in us both ruining our mornings, watching a pot boil."

Draco's pale blonde eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Did Professor Snape bash you on the head with a cauldron, by any chance?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Harry answered with a sigh. This was going to be a great deal harder then almost anything he'd ever done, including taking on the Horntail. 

"Hit you with a memory charm? Make you drink a Forgetfulness Formula? Cosh your head on the door?" Draco continued, warming to his subject.

"I just thought you might, you know, like a break," Harry said, trying not to sound annoyed.

"I promised Professor Snape I wouldn't leave you alone in here, Potter. For some odd reason, he seems to think you might try and wreck the place." Malfoy crossed his arms, and looked resolute. "Besides, we still have to add the rowan berries and rue, and you know they need to be strictly timed or else the whole lot blows up."

Harry just nodded. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said quietly. 

Was it his imagination, or did Malfoy actually look _pleased_ ?

***

They logged their newest version of the Impenetrable Potion, which this time managed to withstand every hex Draco could think of for a full ten minutes before the affects wore off. Harry had to speak in limericks for a quarter hour before Draco could stop laughing long enough to perform the counter curse. Despite his annoyance at hearing Draco imitate his recitation of "There was a young stunner from the Burrow; who's prettier then, say, Moaning Myrtle.", he was quite pleased with their progress. Despite his weeks of practice with Moody, he still hadn't managed to get an Impenetrable Spell to last longer then a few minutes. Somehow the knowledge that he was quickly making headway on a potions version of the same made him more confident that he would accomplish the other shortly. Right now, he just wanted to focus on the Hogsmeade visit, the Halloween celebration, and most importantly, his first semi-official date with Ginny. 

It was semi-official because neither of them had the nerve to talk about it with anyone else. Not that Ron didn't have his suspicions that something was definitely afoot between his best friend and his sister. He'd been harassing Harry about it every day: on the way to class, during class - and had managed to cost Gryffindor 30 points along the way. He didn't seem to want to take "Sod off" as an answer, either.

Harry didn't know why he and Ginny were both so conscientious about keeping their burgeoning romance a secret, but he knew he wasn't the only one staying mum. Just yesterday, he'd overheard Ginny flatly denying to a disbelieving Parvati Patil that she'd been staring at him in the Common Room. "Sorry, Parvati, I'll leave the obvious ogling to you and Lavender," he'd heard her snap just before she had stormed up the stairs.

He hated lying about anything to Ron and Hermione, but for some reason he wanted to keep this for himself. When he and Ginny did manage to get a few moments alone, it was as if they were in a world only they could see. No longer tongue-tied in each other's presence, they talked about everything: classes, Voldemort, teachers, Voldemort, Quidditch, and Voldemort. It was a novelty for Harry to be able to talk to anyone who understood what he had gone through, and he found himself opening up more and more about the events of the Triwizard Tournament and its immediate after-effects.

But he didn't plan to talk about anything so glum today. It was a cool crisp fall day; the leaves were displaying their full myriad of fall colours, the air had the scent of fire and earth, and all he wanted was to enjoy his first ever date. Pulling on a pair of black corduroys and a scarlet jumper, he opted against his cloak and headed downstairs. Ron and Hermione were already there, looking impatient to get going. 

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked, nervously flattening his hair to his forehead.

"Upstairs," Hermione answered, giving him a curious look. "Your hair's fine, Harry - quit fidgeting already."

"Right," he answered. He slipped his hands in his pockets, and found that he was tapping a fast staccato beat against his thigh.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Hermione stood up, and headed up the stairs, returning a minute later with a blushing Ginny. "Will you two just admit you're together already? It's exhausting work for the rest of us, trying not to notice all the furtive looks and googly eyes!"

Harry ignored her, and Ron's snort of laughter. Ginny looked wonderful, in a camel sweater and matching glenplaid skirt. The warm colours brought out the coppery highlights in her hair. "Hi," he said softly.

Behind him, Ron was pretending to gag. "Shut it, Ron, or I'll tell Hermione what you were saying about her in your sleep last night." Harry said, without tearing his eyes away from Ginny. She grinned and reached over to take his hand. 

"Very smooth," she whispered.

"I learned from the master," he answered, his eyes dancing. "Coming, you two?"

The two couples made their way out of the Common Room and out of the castle. As they walked across the grounds towards Hogsmeade, they discussed the Feast that night.

"I heard Dumbledore set up a haunted house for the entertainment," Harry said.

"Really? Hannah Abbott told me she overheard Sprout and McGonagall talking about a masquerade party, but I think if he was having one of those we'd know by now." Ron put in. He looked at Ginny inquiringly. "Any rumors floating around your year?"

She giggled. "Always. But about tonight? Just that the dancing skeletons have apparently broken up and gone for solo careers."

Hogsmeade looked like a picture from a book. There were brightly coloured wreaths on the doors, cornucopias in the windows, and Harry smelled the unmistakable scent of hot cider coming from more than one kitchen. After a quick stop in Zonko's so that Ron and Harry could stock up on dungbombs, ("How old are you?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.) they stopped in Dervish and Banges. Hermione and Ginny were soon lost in a rack of books with titles like _I'm Gonna Wash that Warlock Right out of My Hair, Single White Sorceress, Cauldron Cake Detectives, Of Mad Muggles and Englishman, _and _He had on Lovely Silk Knickers, too_. Harry could hear them giggling two aisles away, while he and Ron busily flipped through the latest issues of _Which Broomstick_, _Quidditch Quarterly_, and _Sorcerer Sports Illustrated_. 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you'd think we'd be enough inspiration for themlast weekend Hermione bought a three volume set of that trash. _Snogs in the Study_, _Lust in the Library_ , and _Passion on the Pitch_. I mean, I'm glad she's reading that instead of _Hogwarts: A History _for the umpteenth time, but it does make a bloke feel a bit sub-standard."

Harry grimaced then. He'd just caught sight of _Tarot for the Traumatized _and was sharply reminded of his last Divination lesson with Trelawney.

He'd yet to take the Tarot cards she'd given him out of their silk bag, let alone bonded with them. And he'd deliberately kept his mind almost a complete blank when they'd practiced their Tarot readings in class. He wasn't sure what had caused his last fateful reading, but he didn't want to risk it happening again. Trelawney, however, seemed unfazed by his rebellion. At the end of their last class, she'd asked him to stay behind.

Harry had been prepared for a lecture, or another of Trelawney's trademark dramatic predictions. He'd been stunned when she did neither of these. "Developing the Sight is a frightening process, my dear boy, but I daresay you've survived worse. However, running from your fate won't prevent itthe longer you suppress your gift, the worse it will be for you. The Inner Eye doesn't enjoy being ignored." With that, she had written him an excuse for being late to Velange's class and waved him out the trapdoor.

Ron turned to see what he was looking at, and made a face. "Gods, Harry - do you have to ruin a perfectly lovely day by thinking about Trelawney?" He picked up his three magazines and headed for the witch behind the counter. "Why don't you see if the drool-fest has ended and we'll all meet outside."

Harry snuck up behind where Ginny and Hermione were giggling and reading _Confessions over Cauldrons_. At his gentle tap on her shoulder, Ginny squealed and accidentally threw the book into the air. "Harry!" she gasped, as Hermione burst into a fresh wave of giggles.

Jumping nimbly, he caught _Confessions over Cauldrons_. "Oh, give that here," Ginny began, turning scarlet.

"Not on your life," he grinned at her. Instead, he added it to his magazines and headed for the checkout counter. Too shocked to protest, Ginny and Hermione followed him.

"Interesting read," commented the witch, as she neatly wrapped his purchases in brown paper. "My personal favourite is _Skyclad Snuggles_."

"I'll have to pick that up next time," he said. As the three of them left the shop, he distinctly heard the witch mutter "Harry Potter - tawdry trash tosserwho knew?"

They bypassed the Three Broomsticks in favor of the Hog's Head, as Ginny had never been inside. There were only a few Hogwarts students inside, Cho Chang among them. She waved at Harry but didn't leave her table, where she sat talking to Roger Davies. Harry couldn't help feeling relieved by this - Ginny's expression had been anything but friendly as she looked at the Ravenclaw girl.

Rene came by, and while Ron ordered a pint of mead, the other three stuck with butterbeer. They were so busy talking about the upcoming match against Hufflepuff that the sound of an amplified woman's voice made them all jump.

"Good afternoon." It was Lauren Velange, this time with only two other guitarists and a different drummer. _That must be the real drummer, as Snape was filling in the last time. _"BlessedSamhain, or Happy Halloween to you all. This isn't really a performance, more of a jam session reallyfeel free not to clap, just try not to jeer too loudly, it tends to upset Cole." The guitarist with the long black hair laughed and started playing.

Unlike the night of the Seges party, when the Spirit Room had clearly put on a practiced performance, this was more of a casual sing-along. The two guitarists, whose names turned out to be Cole and Colum, did most of the singing, with Lauren happily playing her own guitar. The music varied, from traditional folk tunes, to more modern songs. The people in the pub directed much of the music selection, yelling out their favourites and singing along. Not a few of the songs were quite raucous, but Hermione and Ginny merely laughed and sang along.

"This place is incredible!" Ginny said in Harry's ear. "Why didn't we ever come here before?"

"Didn't think about it - everyone just automatically went to the Three Broomsticks," he answered. They had to sit very closer together in order to hear what the other was saying. Harry slipped an arm around her shoulders. She blushed, but reached over to hold his hand.

Just as the band announced a break, Harry heard a familiar voice. "Well, well - this certainly is cozy." Harry quickly released Ginny, who went very red. 

"Bill!" Ron looked stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking in." Bill looked amused. "Ginny, I'm quite upset with you!"

"Why?" she asked, looking shocked. "We were just holding-"

"My baby sister went and grew up on me, without so much as asking." Bill's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Harry. "Of course, I would like to make sure that you're the only girl Harry is currently seeing...he had another for his Seges date, you know."

Harry started to explain, but Ginny cut him off. "Don't be ridiculous, Bill. Of course I know that Harry and Cho Chang went together to the Segesyou do know who she is, don't you?"

Bill looked surprised at this show of spunk. "Sorry, no."

"Cho dated Cedric Diggory last year," Ginny said softly, not wanting her voice to carry over to where Cho and Roger were sitting.

"Oh. Right." Bill had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry about that, Harry - older brother's duty and all."

"It's ok," Harry answered him with a smile. "No less then I expected of you."

"I'm glad to see that you all came back for more," said a voice behind Bill. Lauren Velange grinned at them. "I take it that means you had a good time at Seges?"

"Wonderful!" Hermione smiled at her. "Your sound is so different today, it's almost like another band."

"You could say that," Lauren answered. Her eyes were on Bill, and she didn't seem to be really listening to what Hermione was saying.

"I don't believe we've met," Lauren said, in a voice that made Harry feel as though he'd just plunged into a very hot bath. "I'm Lauren." 

Bill's expression never changed. Harry was impressed - he'd always thought of Bill as cool, but this just clinched it. "Bill Weasley," he said, looking amused.

Lauren looked like a cat who had just discovered a bowl of cream. "Buy you a drink?" she asked, not waiting for an answer as she placed a small hand on his arm and steered him towards the bar. Bill didn't seem to object.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione hissed. "She didn't come over to say 'Hi' - she came to talk to Bill!"

Ginny just laughed. "Hermione, believe me when I say that's not the first time something like this has happened."

"Remember in Egypt when he was dating those twins and their cousin started chatting him up right in front of Mum?" Ron snickered.

"But she's treating him likelike a boy toy or something!" Hermione looked shocked.

"And he's really beating her off with a stick." Ron said. "He just hates it when beautiful women buy him alcohol - says it gives him nightmares." Seeing Hermione roll her eyes, Ron said soothingly "So she didn't come over to say "Hullo" to a group of students who heard her play exactly oncewhat's the big deal?"

"It's rude," Hermione said, looking somewhat sulky.

"Bill has that affect on women," Ginny said, looking as though she was trying not to laugh. Harry just shook his head. It looked as though this male/female thing didn't get any less complicated as you got older.

After he and Ginny finished their butterbeers, they decided to go for a walk. Ron and Hermione wanted to stay at the pub. "We'll see you back at the Feast, then." Ginny said brightly. She and Harry waved at Bill, who was still talking to Lauren. Harry was no expert on the matter, but he thought Bill looked just as mesmerized by Lauren as she did by him.

As neither Harry nor Ginny had any real errands to run in the village, they decided to take advantage of the unusually good weather and simply walk. Holding hands, they made their way up the hill and ended up at the Shrieking Shack.

"This place just reeks of bad karma," Ginny said, giving a slight shudder.

"Well, it would, seeing as to how it was basically a prison for Lupin all those years." Harry looked at the dilapidated house, remembering the depressing inside. _How had Lupin been able to stand it? _he wondered, not for the first time. "Forget the isolation that must come with being a werewolf, but to have to spend one weekend a month trapped, in pain and not being able to share it with anyone?"

Ginny nodded. "It explains a lot about him, you know. Even when he smiled, something in his eyes lookedyou know, lost."

Harry suddenly felt very cold. An icy breeze seemed to have come from no where, and crept right into his very bones. He tried to say something, but nothing came out.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, sounding very far away. "HARRY!"

__

It was very cold. Very black. He saw a whirl of mist, and sea. An island. No, a fortress. Dank and depressing, jutting against the night sky like a beacon of despair. He heard the cries of people in pain, in agony. And then he saw the flash of a bony, decayed hand - reaching out from beneath long robes - reaching out for himHe heard the screams in his head, and the agonizing sobs of those who were without hope, without lifeAnd then he realized, the screaming was coming from his own throat, the never-ceasing scream of a soul who had been torn from life and sent straight to hell.

"HARRY!" He opened his eyes. Ginny was kneeling next to him, her face very white. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously. 

"I'm fine," Harry tried to say, but he felt as though his mouth had been stuffed full of cotton. Shivering, he reached up to brush the hair back out of his eyes and realized his skin was covered in cold, dank sweat.

"Come on, we're getting you back to the castle," Ginny said, pulling him to his feet. The world spun, and he grabbed at the broken fence that surrounded the Shrieking Shack, trying to right himself. A bit of wood splintered , sending a sliver deep into his finger and drawing blood.

The blood was like a spotlight in his now hazy world, a gleam of red in an otherwise gray world. Gray, like the mist that had surrounded the island. Gray, like the fortress. And red, like Voldemort's eyes. He heard the screams in his head. And then he _knew_.

Harry stared down at the now very frightened Ginny. "They're gone," he gasped.

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑ±hä, Erinyes and the prodigious Unregistered.

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	12. Siren's Song Chapter 12

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated then just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - my eternal thanks and praise.

***

"They're gone!" Harry repeated, swaying slightly. He could still hear the screaming echoing inside his head. The frigid cold sensation, a souvenir from the Dementors' presence, permeated his flesh as if a thousand sharp knives were cutting at his skin.

"My God, you're shaking like a leaf! Come on, I'm taking you home!" Ginny exclaimed, her arm tight around his waist as she began leading him down the hill and towards the village.

Harry would never remember exactly how Ginny got him back into Hogsmeade. He had needed to lean on her a bit more than he would have liked, and although she wasn't complaining, their progress was understandably slow. More than once, he'd almost collapsed as a fresh wave of cold hit him. Ginny had reached up to touch his face one of these times, and had turned very pale when she realized how clammy his skin was.

When they reached the village, Ginny forced Harry to sit on a bench while she ran to get Ron and Hermione. He leaned his head back, staring at the now gray sky. Gray sky, like the sky he had just seen in his vision. Had it been a premonition? He'd had disturbing shots of events in time before, but always in his dreams, never while he was awake. He looked down at his still bleeding finger and sucked the bright drops of vitae away. The taste was harsh copper in his mouth, and made his stomach lurch. It took all of his efforts not to give into his nausea and be violently ill in the street.

In a matter of minutes that seemed like an eternity, Ginny returned with Ron and Hermione. Ron looked terrified as he knelt in front of Harry. "Harry! You look awful! What is it?"

Hermione looked as pale as Ginny as she took in his colourless face and wide emerald eyes. Ginny had taken another look at him and practically flown up the street in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. 

Hermione, however, had noticed his bleeding finger and had quickly ripped off a section of her robe's lining to wrap it up. Harry didn't protest. "What happened, Harry?" she asked, tying the scrap of cloth tightly around his wounded finger. "Ginny said you went rigid all of the sudden and then fell down. She said when you came to you looked like death and kept saying 'They're gone'. Who's gone?"

"The Dementors," Harry managed to get out, feeling the cold worse then ever, and wishing he'd brought his own cloak.

Hermione and Ron shared a meaningful look over his head. "The Dementors have been gone for two years, Harry-" Ron began but quickly broke off at the sight of Ginny running towards them, Professor Velange right behind her.

"H-here!" Ginny held out two Chocolate Frogs to Harry, while Velange reached over to brush his damp hair back from his forehead. She seemed to be staring at his scar, as if searching for answers.

The sight of chocolate made his stomach lurch again. "Ginny, I don't think-"

"Eat it!" she insisted, looking as if she might force-feed the candy to him if he didn't give in.

Sighing, he shoved both frogs into his mouth at once, and focused on having them actually make their way down his throat and into his stomach. Within a few seconds, he felt much better. The cold seemed to recede, and everything came into better focus. Hermione was standing and watching Velange's every move like an extremely protective mother hen, Ron was talking to Ginny in a low voice and Velangeher hand was cool as she gently touched his scar, as if testing something. 

"Come on, Harry - back to the castle," she murmured at last, apparently satisfied with her examination.

"I, um, I don't think I can walk that far just yet," he muttered. "I need a second, please?"

Ginny took his hand in hers, and squeezed it. "Can't it wait a minute, Professor?" she asked anxiously.

"No, Ginny, it really can'tI want him to see Poppy Pomfrey right away," Velange said.

"He just said he can't walk that far!" Ron snapped. "What difference is a few minutes going to make if he collapses along the way?"

"I never said anything about him walking, Ron," Velange said gently. She looked at Harry. "The Headmaster gave us all a pouch of Disapparation Dust at the start of term. Do you feel up to using that?"

"Disapparation Dust?" Hermione repeated faintly. "What's Disapparation Dust?" But Velange ignored her, and kept her eyes on Harry.

"Harry?" she asked, and he got to his feet.

"Yeah. I can do that," he said, feeling Ginny's arm around his waist again. "Can Ginny come through with me?"

Velange shook her head. "One at a time, Harry - otherwise you might be splinched together." Ron winced and Hermione looked taken aback.

"Why don't I send Ginny ahead of you? After you've gone I'll send Ron and Hermione," Velange suggested.

"What about you?" Hermione asked.

"I'll be along right behind you two," Velange smiled slightly at her apprehension. "If you could please take Harry right up to the infirmary as soon as you get thereI'll be up shortly after." Her hand had already scooped into a velvet pouch and she had the strange glittering powder in her hand. "Ginny?" she asked.

Giving Harry's hand an extra squeeze, she stood and walked to where Velange had thrown the circle of shining Disapparation Dust on the ground. Velange told her to step inside the ring of powder and in a second, she had vanished.

"Whoah!" Ron whistled. 

"Harry?" she said next, and Hermione hurried over to help him to his feet. 

"Ron and I will be right behind you," she whispered.

"I know," Harry said, trying to give them a smile but failing. He stepped into the circle and felt the tug on his spine and the rush of colours before he felt his feet hit the ground. Ginny was waiting for him, and caught him by the arms to keep him from falling.

"This is pitiful," Harry grimaced. "Nice boyfriend I am, collapsing on you every two seconds."

She smiled, the first smile he had seen since he had collapsed. "I prefer to think of it as job security," she said lightly. Ron popped into view, followed shortly by Hermione. 

"Let's go," Ron said without preamble. With the three of them hovering around him, Harry was really starting to feel somewhat silly as they made their way up to Madam Pomfrey's. "Um, guys - I _can_ walk," he started.

"And you _could_ fall and crack your head open, but we'd prefer you not demonstrate those skills just now," Hermione said evenly. She knocked on the infirmary door. There was no answer.

"That's odd," Ron said. "She's always in." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the knob. "_Alohomora!" _The knob sprang open, and Ron turned to see Harry, Ginny and Hermione looking at him, stunned. "What? I take the same classes as you lot, you think I don't know how to use any of it?"

"It's just that I expected you to try pounding on the door first," Hermione smiled weakly.

"Guess you're rubbing off on me," Ron grinned at her. "Inside, Harry, come on."

Inside the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey's office was dark, and there was no sign of its dauntless mistress. Harry's eyes grew accustomed to the dim light as he made his way over to a bed, and sprawled out on top of it. Ginny sat next to him, and propped up the pillows behind his head. "Just rest, Harry," she said while Hermione looked around for some water. Ron stood with his hands in his pockets, watching his best friend and his sister and not speaking.

Just as Hermione located the water pitcher the door swung open again, revealing a distraught-looking Madam Pomfrey, with Professor Velange and Professor Dumbledore behind her. Ginny rose quickly to her feet. "How on earth did you lot get in here?" Madam Pomfrey barked at them.

"_Alohomora_ charm," Ron said, looking surprised by her anger.

"I mustn't have sealed the door correctly," Madam Pomfrey sniffed, looking at Dumbledore. "My apologies, Headmaster."

"Quite all right, Poppy." Dumbledore came and sat on the bedside in the spot Ginny had vacated. "Harry?" he asked, his voice very kind. "Professor Velange said that you had a vision."

"I sawsomething, Professor," Harry said, wishing they would all just go away and let him sleep. "I saw the Dementors; saw them abandoning Azkaban." Madam Pomfrey gasped. Harry went on, feeling it best to tell everything. "That's not all. I think they freed Voldemort's supporters when they left, and-" he couldn't continue, remembering the screams.

"And the other prisoners?" Velange asked weakly.

"I think - I think they're dead," he finished quietly.

There was a nasty silence, during which time Professor Velange got quietly to her feet and left the room. Dumbledore's eyes held none of their usual sparkle as he looked at Harry. "Very well, Harry. I think you're due for some rest. Poppy, if you could see to it that he has some chocolate before he sleeps?"

"I already had some," Harry said quickly, not sure if he could swallow any more, the way his stomach was churning. "Ginny gave me some as soon as we reached the village."

"Did she now?" Dumbledore's eyes shot to Ginny, who hung back, blushing. "Miss Weasley, I am impressed - quite impressed - with your quick thinking. Professor Moody will be delighted to know how much you've learned from his classes." He stood. "Get some rest, Harrywe'll talk more later."

"Professor, may we stay with him?" Hermione asked, while Ron crossed his arms and looked unwilling to move a muscle.

"Of course, so long as you allow him to sleep."

"Headmaster! This child needs care, not a slumber party-" Madam Pomfrey began.

"They won't exactly be swinging from the chandeliers, Poppy," Dumbledore said calmly. "I'll be back to check on you in a few hours, Harry." With that, he left.

Madam Pomfrey disappeared back into her office, muttering under breath, while Hermione, Ron and Ginny gathered around Harry's bed. "You actually saw the Dementors, Harry?" Ron asked, looking stricken. "You saw them leave Azkaban?"

"Yes," Harry answered, feeling as if even that one word was an effort.

"How did you know to give him chocolate, Ginny?" Hermione asked, sounding impressed herself.

"I remembered how Harry looked that time on the train, when the Dementors came aboard," Ginny explained. "And I played a hunch."

"Hell of a hunch," Ron muttered, looking at his sister as though they'd only just met.

Madam Pomfrey returned, carrying a large glass. "Drink this," she said, setting it firmly into Harry's hand.

"What is it?" he asked, looking at the brown liquid. 

"Oh something very sinister, Mr. Potter," she answered, looking exasperated. "It's chocolate milk mixed with a sleeping draft."

Harry drank it without further comment. The chocolate milk was ice cold, and was surprisingly soothing. He felt a wave of drowsiness sweep over him, and then he was asleep.

His dreams were anything but peaceful:

__

He was flying on his Firebolt, but where? Harry neither knew nor cared. All he wanted was to feel the cool air against his face, and the sensation of freedom that flying had always given him, freedom from the worries bubbling up in his life. He didn't have to think about Sirius, or his mysterious godmother, or his friends or even Voldemort. He wanted to fly over the lakes and mountains forever, and leave his life behind.and then he was falling, the Firebolt suddenly gone, and the world spinning up towards him so fast he felt ill. 

But instead of hitting the ground, he continued to fall, as if tumbling through infinite time and space. Pictures whirled by; Hogwarts, the Burrow, the Great Hall - everyplace he had ever felt safe and sheltered. Faces swirled past him so quickly he saw only flashes: Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Hagrid, Dumbledore, Ginny, Sirius. He reached out frantically to try and catch himself, to stop this dizzying descent into nothingness, but found that there was nothing to catch him. 

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, he landed with a slight thump. He sat up and saw a house directly in front of him. He didn't recognize it, and yetsomehow it felt familiar and safe. Even as he staggered towards the door, he felt the telltale prickles of hair standing up on the back of his neck that warned him he would not like what he would find inside.

He opened the door, and called a quiet "Hullo?" There was no answer, only the sound of a soft, faint buzzing. Following the noise, he opened door after door in the house, only to find that every room was as empty as the last. He could smell dinner being cooked on the stove, and knew that someone lived there - and still, he found no one. Where were they? He felt surprisingly anxious, and felt himself becoming more and more apprehensive with every empty room.

Upstairs, the buzzing became louder. Harry followed the sound down the hallway, and found himself opening the door to the last bedroom. As he swung the door open, he bit back a scream.

A woman with long red hair lay sprawled on the floor, her bright green eyes wide and unseeing, her mouth forever trapped in the expression of a scream. A Sneakoscope lay cracked and buzzing at her feet. It obviously had not warned her of Voldemort's presence in time to save her life. Harry furiously blinked back the rush of tears that threatened to engulf him. Her's was the face that had haunted his dreams since his first year at Hogwarts, since he'd first seen her looking back at him through the Mirror of Erised. "Mum?" Harry croaked, _feeling the nausea rising in his throat. He had never thought he would see his mother as she had looked then, and now that he had, he closed his eyes against the horror of it._

A soft mewling sound made him open his eyes again. A tiny boy was crawling out from beneath the bed, blood streaming from a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead. The boy's expression was one of pure misery as he made his way determinedly to his mother's outstretched hand. As Harry watched, the small child grasped his mother's hand, and a dazzling white light filled the room, illuminating the child's tear stained face. Harry felt himself flying backwards against the wall, and the sharp pain that jolted his body made him cry out. He tasted blood, bitter in his throat, and as darkness swirled up around him, he heard a hissing voice in his head say "It's the blood - it's always the blood." As he looked at his own hands, he saw that the left one had a long, deep cut across the center of his palm. The blood that poured from his wound had begun to shimmer as brightly as Wormtail's had in the potion that restored Voldemort to his body. And he screamed.

"Shhh" a gentle hand on his arm made Harry awake with a start. The room was very dark and fuzzy: someone had removed his glasses. His throat felt dry, and he reached blindly for the glass of water he could just make out on the bedstand.

"I'll get it, Harry - you just close your eyes and try to relax." Velange's voice pierced his disoriented world. She placed the glass of water in his shaking hands, and he felt the bed dip slightly as she sat down next to him. 

Harry swallowed the water in two gulps, and croaked out "More." She refilled his glass from the silver pitcher and he quickly drank it dry.

"You were screaming," Velange said, her hands cool on his cheeks as she neatly replaced his glasses. "It sounded like quite a terrifying dream."

"Yeah," Harry said, opening his eyes and blinking at her. "Why is it so dark in here?"

"I wanted to make sure that you managed to sleep undisturbed - you've had quite a shock today." With a wave of her wand, Velange lit the candles in the infirmary and Harry got a good look at his professor.

Her eyes were faintly red, as if she had been crying, and she looked very pale. But her smile was as warm as ever as she plucked the empty glass from his hands and filled it once more with another wave of her wand.

"How - how long have I been asleep?" Harry asked, looking around. The infirmary was deserted except for the two of them. Where was Madam Pomfrey? It wasn't like her not to be swooping down on him the minute he woke up.

"Several hours. I sent Ron, Hermione and Ginny down to the kitchens to eat." Her smile widened. "You have some incredibly loyal friends, Harry - I hope you know thatthey refused to go to the Halloween feast, not wanting to leave you alone."

A soft knock at the door made them both jump. Professor Dumbledore entered, and he looked very grave. "Ahh, good. You're awake." Without preamble, he drew up a chair next to Harry's bed and began speaking in an oddly tense voice that Harry had never heard him use before.

"As you already know, the Dementors did indeed abandon Azkaban earlier today. My owl to the Ministry warning them of your premonition had not been gone but a quarter hour when I received one stating that the events you described had occurred."

"And the prisoners?" Harry asked, knowing what he was about to hear but unable to stop himself from asking the question.

"Those who were loyal to Voldemort have vanished without a trace, and the others were left behind."

"Dead?" Harry asked, scarcely daring to believe that it was true.

"Worse than dead," Dumbledore confirmed. "It would seem that the Dementors allowed themselves something of a feast prior to their departure." Professor Velange blanched. Harry looked down at his hands. There was no cut on his left palm, but it tingled weirdly, as if he had somehow cut off its circulation and had just now restored it.

"Harry, have you ever had a premonition like this before? Not one in your dreams, but a true vision?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes somber.

"No, sir," Harry answered. 

"How did you feel before it occurred?" Dumbledore pressed on.

"Cold, sir." Where was Dumbledore going with all of this?

"I see," Dumbledore said slowly. "Well, well - it would seem that Professor Trelawney was quite right in her assumptions."

"Sorry?" Harry asked, confused.

"You have the Sight, Harry. How much, I cannot say. It is not unusual for most wizards to on occasion catch a glimpse or two of the future, but for it to make itself so plainly known is most extraordinary." Dumbledore looked thoughtful. 

"Perhaps it was only this once?" Velange asked. "Harry's link to Voldemort might have enabled him to see this event as it happened."

"As to that, I cannot say. It is possible, of course, that the scar that links Harry to Voldemort might have somehow focused its energies on this new threat." He stood. "All things being equal however, the simplest explanation tends to be the correct oneHarry, I will arrange for you to meet with Madame Vicarro. She heads the Divination Department at the Ministry, and will be able to answer any questions you might have on this. For now, I would suggest that you try and get some rest. You will rejoin your classmates Monday morning." He nodded to Professor Velange, and swept out.

Harry felt wide-awake now. He had no interest in sleep; he didn't want to see anything more horrific than a field of bunnies at the moment, and feared he might go mad if he was forced to wrestle with another nightmare. Professor Velange gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'll wait until your friends return, Harry. No doubt you'll want some privacy so you can talk."

He nodded, then asked suddenly "How can it possibly be linked to Voldemort? My vision, I mean. Any other time that something like this has happened, my scar hurt so badly it felt like it was on fire."

She looked troubled. "I don't know, Harry. But if anyone can explain it, Madam Vicarro canshe's the best researcher of Divination and its disciplines that the Ministry has. And despite the Ministry's attitude about everything associated with Dumbledore at the moment, Vicarro can be trusted. I believe she was among the first that Arthur Weasley contacted last summer after Voldemort's resurrection."

The Ministry's attitudeFudge's attitude. He lay back, and watched Velange intently. "Fudge isn't going to be able to keep this quiet, is he?"

"No, he's not," Velange answered him matter-of-factly. "He'll try, no doubt, but I've no idea how else he'd be able to explain the spotting of the Dark Mark floating over Azkaban. And when people find out he's kept Voldemort's return quiet for months, well, he's going to have a lot more questions to answer." 

"Like Mrs. Figg and those two Unspeakables disappearing," Harry muttered. "I'd like to see how he keeps that hush-hush after _this_." 

"How did you know about that?" Velange asked him, stunned.

"Ron's dad works for the Ministry," Harry said quickly. "I sort of heard about it from his mum." It wasn't a _complete_ lie - he had heard about it from Sirius, who had heard it from Molly Weasley. So in a really convoluted way, he had heard about it from her.via another personone who wasn't supposed to exist in his life 

He swallowed, not looking away from Velange's eyes. "People are going to panic," Harry said. It wasn't a question, merely a statement of fact. "It'll be worse then it was the last time, won't it?"

She gave him a penetrating stare. "Would you prefer them not to know the truth, Harry? At least now they'll know to be on their guard. And lies won't protect them from what's likely to happen." She smoothed his bedcovers with her hand, and smiled at the sound of Ron, Hermione and Ginny's voices floating up the corridor. "I'll leave you now." Her smile didn't reach her eyes, which he noticed were oddly bright. "I'll be back to check on you in the morning."

Harry nodded, and sighed as the door opened, admitting Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Madam Pomfrey. The nurse, he noticed, gave Professor Velange a very cold look as she passed. _What was that about?_ he wondered. And how on earth had Professor Velange managed to talk Madam Pomfrey into leaving the sanctity of her infirmary, even for a few minutes?

"We brought you some food," Ron said as soon as he reached Harry's bedside. "Sausages and mashed potatoes."

"And some éclairs," Ginny added. "Dobby made them for you himself."

Madam Pomfrey swept into her office without a word, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He felt odd enough about the events of the day, without having the school nurse hovering about as she always did. He reached eagerly for the plate of food Ron was holding, and began eating, realizing as he did so just how hungry he was. 

Hermione had yet to say a word, but her eyes never left his face as he finished his dinner. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"It's nothing," she said nervously, before she seemed to steel herself and plunged on. "Harry, you know what this means, don't you?"

"Yeah, Voldemort's building his army," Harry said, reaching for an éclair. "Not exactly a shock, though, is it?"

"Not just that." Hermione's face was very anxious. "If you could see that, then maybe you can see what else he has planned."

"Get serious," Ron said, waving an impatient hand. "Snape said we can't even be sure that Harry does really have the Sight."

"You talked to Snape?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Yeah, he met us down in the kitchens." Ron answered, reaching over for one of Harry's éclairs. 

Ginny slapped at his hand. "You just had three down in the kitchens! Talk about a bottomless pit!"

"Why was Snape in the kitchens?" Harry asked Hermione, ignoring the two siblings.

"I think he was getting some food for Velange," Hermione said hesitantly. " She didn't come down to the feast or anything. She was really worried about you, Harryshe barely left your side once."

"Of course she did," Harry frowned. "Right after I told Dumbledore what I saw, remember?"

"No, Harry, she was just outside the door, talking to Snape. We saw her," Ginny's eyes looked worried. "She was crying, and looked pretty upset."

"Snape was tryin' to comfo't her," Ron put in, his mouth full of éclair. "It wa' kind o' disturbin'," he swallowed. "He looked almost human; he was holding her and patting her on the back. And here I thought she had some sort of taste level - imagine letting _Snape _be your rock of support?"

Harry frowned. He remembered how friendly Snape had been to Velange before their first lesson, and how he had definitely seemed to be more then just an acquaintance to Lauren. He started to get out of bed, just as Madam Pomfrey returned.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" she asked, icily.

"Need to send an owl," Harry said by way of explanation, knowing as he did so he would never get past her tonight.

"I'm sure whatever it is about can wait until morning," Madam Pomfrey said imperiously. "And now, you three need to clear off - this young man needs his rest!"

They stood and nodded politely to the nurse, although it was clear from their expressions that none of them were happy about her command. "We'll see you in the morning," Ginny whispered, bending to drop a quick kiss on his lips . Ron nodded to him, and followed his sister out the door. Hermione turned to leave, but Harry caught her by the wrist. 

"Do me a favor, Hermione," he whispered. "I want to start looking through old copies of the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow. Get as many copies as you can from October 1981 through February 1982." Hermione looked startled, but nodded and quickly left after Ron and Ginny.

Harry lay back and looked at the ceiling. He had to find _her_, and see to it that she was safe - before Voldemort started his next move. 

***

AN: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

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	13. Siren's Song Chapter 13

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is much more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested. References to the Tarot and its interpretation are from Janina Renee's _Tarot for a New Generation,_ Llewellyn Worldwide, 2001. The Tarot reading described is an actual one I pulled right before I started on the second part of the chapter, and it was more than a little freaky as I was really focusing on what faced Harry next. (dear God, I'm channeling imaginary charactersis there no end to my Potter fanaticism?)

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral and Elliott - my eternal thanks and praise. And to my kind readers who have been so open with their feedback, I extend a sincere and heartfelt thank you. (For all those who called out in chapter 12 that YOU CANNOT APPARATE INTO HOGWARTS, you are SOOO right! Writer's oops. I meant to indicate that they apparated onto the grounds with the Disapparation Dust, but obviously didn't manage to do so. Feel free to send me to detention with Filch, it won't happen again! Thanks very much for the shoutout!)

***

After much bargaining with Madam Pomfrey, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower the next afternoon to find that Hermione had been as good as her word: she'd covered an entire tabletop with brittle copies of the Daily Prophet. She, Ron and Ginny were in the middle of pouring through the yellowing papers when he entered the Common room. 

"Harry!" Ginny smiled at him as he joined them. "You look _much_ better."

Despite his worries about his godmother, the Dementors, Velange, and Voldemort, Harry had managed to get a full night's uninterrupted sleep, no doubt helped by the potion Madam Pomfrey had pressed upon him after Ron, Hermione and Ginny had left. Hermione somehow seemed to know all of this as she asked in a low voice, "No nightmares last night?"

"No, my head was blessedly vision free last night," Harry said, settling himself in a chair across from Ron and pulling a pile of yellow papers toward himself. "Anything yet?"

Ron shrugged, and made an obvious effort to keep the headlines of his own paper out of Harry's sight. "What?" Harry asked, frowning.

Ron's eyes were full of sympathy. "Trust me, you don't want to read thisit's dated November 1st."

The day after his parents had been killed. "It's not like I don't know what happened to them, Ron." Harry's throat felt as though it had been filled with sawdust. "Besides, there may be some useful information there."

"Here's something," Hermione said loudly. "'_St. Mungo's Reports Record Increase in Patient Admissions_. Despite the generally uplifted environment of the wizarding word following the defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named, the number of admissions to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries has actually seen a marked increase, particularly in their mental capacities ward. The patients themselves are not limited solely to victims of You-Know-Who and their families, but have extended to include the family members of a number of known Death Eaters' families. A spokesman for St. Mungo's emphatically rejected the request from an emissary of victims' families that such treatment should be withheld. Many victims' families are outraged that their loved ones should receive treatment alongside the family members of those who helped to aid He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in his rise to power. "St. Mungo's does not serve as judge and jury," the hospital spokesman reminded protesters who had gathered outside the hospital's lobby, "our mission is to heal all members of the magical community who require aide.'" Hermione looked up from the paper to roll her eyes. "Honestly! They really expected any honorable doctor or medi-wizard to deny someone treatment just because of something their family may have done?"

"I don't blame them for being angry," Harry said stoutly. "I imagine it would be hard to take; the thought that someone you love would be treated the same as someone who's family brought the whole thing about."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Harry James Potter! You should be ashamed of yourself! You thought that the kiss should be administered to Sirius Black, until you found out that he was innocent! Whose to say that the Death Eater's families aren't innocent as well?"

"Let's think about this rationally, shall we?" Ron broke in sardonically. "The Death Eaters who supported Voldemort, wouldn't they include the Malfoys, the Crabbes, and the Goyles?"

  
"Are you going somewhere with this?" Hermione snapped.

"I will be once you let me finish!" Ron snapped back at her. "How else do you think those people would react? What if I lost Ginny, or Mum or hell even Percy to one of those nutters? And then found out that some poor dear old aunt of Lucius Malfoy's, who no doubt knew every angle of Voldemort's plans, decided to duck into St. Mungo's for a stay rather than face the music? I'd be trying to get the horrid lot of them chucked into the streets as well!"

"Stop it!" Ginny hissed. "This isn't helping! And besides, none of you are going to win this argument!" Her cheeks were bright pink as she continued in a low angry voice, "Neither side is completely innocent herethe victim's families had every right to be outraged but not at people whose only crime was in being related to Death Eaters. Think of Hagrid - remember how angry you were about Rita Skeeter's article, and how people turned on him just because his mother was a giantess!" Harry had never seen Ginny like this; it was not a little like watching Mrs. Weasley lose her temper. "Remember what Dumbledore said_? 'It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.'"_

Ron, Harry, and Hermione muttered sheepish "Sorry's", none of them looking at each other. They each read on in silence, before Ginny gasped. "I-I don't believe it!"

"What?" the other three exclaimed, looking up.

"This! '_A Death Eater's Family Legacy: Disgrace, Dementia. _There appears to be no end in sight to the troubles plaguing the family of accused Death Eater Augustus Rookwood, formerly Head of the Department of Mysteries. Rookwood himself has been ordered to serve to 12 life sentences in Azkaban for his role in bringing about the attacks on Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife Corrine, the murder of French Ministry of Magic envoys Antonia and Marcus De Lancret, and the attempted kidnap and murder of the head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office, Raymond Kingsley. While neither his wife nor his two adopted daughters have been accused of any involvement in Rookwood's actions, the shattered family is struggling with their newest heartache: the voluntary committal of the eldest daughter, Helena, to the psychiatric evaluation unit at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Evelyn Rookwood refused to comment to Daily Prophet inquiries as to the cause and nature of her daughter's illness. A member of St. Mungo's Staff, speaking under the condition of anonymity, said 'In a life already plagued with tragedy, it should come as no surprise to any who knew the Rookwood family well that their daughter lost her connection to the real world. She has chosen to withdraw into a world of her own creation, where the consequences of choices made by those she trusted cannot further harm her.'

It should be noted that this is not the Rookwood family's first brush with disgrace due to association with the Dark Arts. In 1968, Rookwood's sister and her husband were killed by Aurors following a yearlong investigation into their involvement with the dark wizard Ephialtes. Ephialtes was later charged with Necromancy in 1973, and has since been imprisoned in Charybdis, the Greek wizard prison. Since the deaths of Marissa and Edmund _Velange_, Augustus and Evelyn Rookwood have served as the guardians of their two daughters, _Helena_ and _Lauren_, officially adopting their nieces in 1973.'"

Hermione looked thunderstruck. "Professor Velange? Her uncle was a _Death Eater?_" she asked faintly, shooting a nervous look at Harry.

"Frank and Corrine Longbottom?" Ron asked, frowning. "Do you think they're any relation to Neville?"

Harry sighed, and pushed his hair back off his forehead. "The timing's right, so I'd have to say yes." Three sets of startled eyes met his. He lowered his voice. "Neville's parents were tortured by Barty Crouch and some other Death Eaters who were trying to locate Voldemort after he lost his powers."

"How do you know about that?" Hermione asked him in the same low voice, looking about the room for Neville, and spotting him by the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's pensieve," Harry answered simply.

"Are they dead?" Ginny asked sharply.

"No." Harry also looked over at where Neville was sitting by the fire, studying his Herbology notes. "They're insane. Dumbledore told me that Neville and his grandmother visit them during the Holidays. They, um, don't recognize him."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. Ginny looked down at the paper in her hands, her eyes very bright. 

Ron, however, looked nauseated. "And Velange's _uncle_ was charged in helping bring the whole thing about? No wonder she's always going off on Nature vs Nurture - trying to distance herself, isn't she?"

Hermione shot him a disgusted look, and said softly, "Harry, what if it's, you know..._her?"_

"No," Harry said firmly. "Sirius said she went mad after my parents were killed, and he was sent to Azkaban. Rookwood wasn't even suspected until Karkaroff's trial." 

Ginny was frowning. Harry looked at her. "What?" he asked.

"Harry, Sirius said your godmother went mad after your parents died. This story only says when Velange was _committed. _Which leads to the million galleon questionif Velange is mad and in St. Mungo's, what is she doing here?" Ginny said slowly. 

"And what exactly were her parents doing in the company of a known Necromancer? That's the darkest of all magicks." Ron put in, giving Hermione a significant look. Hermione just glared at him.

"Hermione, you're the one who said something about her just seemed off," Harry reminded her. 

"I said something didn't fit, not that I thought she was down in the dungeon attempting to channel the dead." Hermione said loftily.

"Dumbledore's really gone off his rocker this time," Ron mumbled. "Imagine hiring someone like that for a teacher?"

"Oh, heavens, are we back to this nonsense?" Hermione huffed. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't hire anyone who was a Death Eater. I don't care what her uncle did, or her parents - if Dumbledore trusts her, then so should we."

"Dumbledore trusted Moody - well, fake Moody, anyway," Ron observed. "Not sure what all that says."

Hermione looked irritated. "He was right to trust the real Moody! And he was right to trust Snape AND Hagrid!"

"I agree with Hermione," Ginny said, laying down her paper. "Dumbledore's never been wrong about a teacher before-" Ron coughed, which sounded suspiciously like the word "Lockhart!" Ginny ignored him and continued, "and just because Velange's family made some, well, a lot of bad choices, doesn't mean she's not trustworthy. Look at the way she took care of Harry last night! And Snape obviously trusts her, and we know _he's_ on our side."

"Snape _seems_ to trust her," Ron said, shaking his head. "But how do we know that's not just part of his new role as spy?" He looked at Harry, who had been quiet throughout this whole debate. "You're looking awfully sobercare to share?"

Harry was staring off into space. "There's only one way to get to the bottom of this."

"Write to Sirius - he'll tell you whatever-" Hermione began, but Harry shook his head.

"No. You didn't see what he looked like when he saw Velange." Harry quickly told them about seeing Velange, Snape and Lauren the day after the Seges party, and how Sirius had reacted to seeing Professor Velange. "I won't put him through that again - not when he's just starting to get over Azkaban."

"He may have looked like that because he was so startled to see the woman he loved" Hermione started.

"Or he may have looked like that because he knows something about Velange and Rookwood, and didn't want to tell me." Harry said, cutting her off. "Not that it matters, because I am not going to ask him. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me." 

"So now what?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Lupin," Harry said. "I don't think he would ever keep anything from us, not after the bit with Wormtail, and he'll know if Velange is trustworthywhen he dropped me off this summer, I got the impression that Dumbledore keeps him well informed."

"This ought to be some letter," Ron grimaced. " 'Dear Professor Lupin: Hope all is well with you. Out of curiosity, can you tell us about Helena Velange - specifically if she's trustworthy? We've just found out her family's full of wacky dark wizards, and wanted to make sure she wasn't going to toss us all into the Chamber of Secrets with a new monster. Sincerely, Harry Potter.' "

"You might want to add a post-script to your letter of defamation," Hermione said to Ron shortly. " 'Oh yeah, and can you let us know about her sister Lauren? Seeing as to how she's putting the moves on my brother, I'd like to be forewarned as to whether or not she would appreciate a copy of_ The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ for a Christmas present. Sincerely, Ron Weasley.' "

"Good idea," Ron said, grinning at her. "Knew I'd get you to my way of thinking."

***

As Ginny and Hermione were furious with the pair of them, only Ron accompanied Harry to the Owlery to send his letter off to Lupin. Despite the girls' objections, Ron was now firmly convinced that not only was Velange _not _Harry's godmother, but that neither Velange nor her sister was to be trusted. "Explains the singing, doesn't it? You were spot on with your instincts there - they were trying to control us."

"But why?" Harry asked, now thoroughly confused himself on his feelings towards Velange. 

"Harry, if her parents were necromancers" Ron shuddered, "well, let's just say I wouldn't be hanging around her office alone at night."

While Harry had opted against using either Ron or Hermione's version of the letter to Lupin, Harry's final version wasn't much different:

__

Dear Professor Lupin:

Hope this finds you well. I wasn't entirely sure where in London you are staying, so hopefully Hedwig found you ok.

School this year is really different, and not just because of the amount of classes we have. We have a new teacher this year instead of Binns: Helena Velange. I think she was in school with you and Sirius. Her sister Lauren is here too - singing with her band in Hogsmeade. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about them: all I know is Velange's class is a lot more interesting than Binns', and that Lauren's singing is rather intense. I also think that Lauren might be seeing Ron's older brother Bill.

By the way, you'll be happy to know that all that work you did with me on the Patronus charm is really paying off: Moody is helping me work on other Defense Against the Dark Arts moves, but most of them are fairly simple in contrast to the Patronus.

Hope to see you soon

Harry 

Harry shook his head, and tied his letter to Hedwig's leg. "I know he's in London - sorry I can't do better then that," he said to her apologetically, stroking her soft tail feathers. Hedwig gave a soft hoot and flew out the window, like a great pale ghost.

"Take a look at this!" Ron whistled from where he was looking out a window and over the grounds. Harry spied a group of three figures stepping out from the castle and heading towards the Forbidden Forest. In the pink light of the setting sun, Lauren Velange's hair was easily recognizable, even at this distance. "That means Snape and Velange are with herwonder where they're headed at this hour?"

"No idea," Harry said, watching the small group slip into the dark shadows of the forest. He looked at Ron. "I really can't believe that Velange is a Death Eater in disguise."

Ron shrugged. "Better safe than sorry, if you ask me. And if we're wrong, she never needs to know that we found out about her past."

***

That proved easier said then done. The very next day, in their Current Events class, Velange had them researching the five different areas of study detailed by the Dark Arts Society. Ron, who had been shooting Velange suspicious looks the entire class, raised his hand.

"Mr. Weasley?" Velange asked.

"Yes, Professor, I was just noticingthere's no mention of necromancy in this text. Does the DAS not recognize it?" His tone was deceptively innocent. Hermione crossed her arms and shot Ron an Avada Kedavra look.

"Necromancy?" If Velange was upset by the sound of the word, she hid it well. "No, the DAS does not recognize itthey view it as too unstable a field for focussed study, and too dangerous an art to be trusted to any but a certain few."

"So there are those who view it as a legitimate field of sorcery?" Ron pounced. Harry had never seen him like this in class.

Velange frowned, sitting down behind her desk. "This subject seems to be of some importance to you, Mr. Weasley. Very well, tell us what you know about the art of necromancy."

Ron had the grace to blush. "Not too much," he muttered. 

"I thought not," Velange said coolly. "However, as you brought it up" she stood up and began pacing in the front of the room. 

"You all know that necromancy is an obscure field of divination, by which its followers attempt to communicate with the dead. There are those who take this to the outer extreme, just as in any field of magic, and attempt not only to communicate with the dead, but to control them to their own liking." Lavender Brown shivered, and Parvati Patil looked faintly nauseous. "It is a topic that has fueled both fantasies and nightmares for generations. You wish to speak to your dearly departed child? Communicate with your ancestors to determine what course your life should take?" An odd smile crossed her face, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Raise an army of warriors who cannot be killed and will take no orders from any save you?" Ron raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry at these words.

"Imagine the power! To see into the beyond, to control those whom have already crossed over, to know the truth of life's most sacred mystery - what happens to us after we die?" Velange paused, studying the class. "Now, imagine the price. What would it cost for one to assume such power? And what must one be willing to give up?" Her eyes flashed, and for a second, Harry thought she looked angry. "Voldemort himself played only at the edges of this fieldwhat does that tell you about the cost of such power?" Her eyes flickered to Ron again.

"Tell me, Mr. Weasley, who would choose to pursue such a field?" Ron stared at his desk, unable to meet her eyes. Harry slowly raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Someone who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain." Firenze's words of five years ago floated through his mind.

"In some cases, yes." Velange confirmed. She looked around. "Anyone else? Miss Granger?"

Hermione said in a soft voice, "Someone that feels they have no other choice."

Velange gave Hermione a piercing look. "Very perceptive of you, Miss Granger." The bell rang then, and Velange dismissed the class with a distracted wave of her hand, quite different from her usual warm yet disciplined manner. "Class dismissed," she said, quickly ducking out the door.

Harry, Ron and Hermione shot one another quizzical looks and hurried after her. "She's heading for the dungeons," Ron said excitedly. "Probably off to tell Snape how we're all on to her!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's the edge of insanity, Ron, and then there's the abyssDumbledore would never have hired a Death Eater, no matter what her parents may have done!"

"He hired Snape," Harry said wearily as they headed for the Great Hall and lunch. 

"Snape _isn't _a Death Eater!" Hermione insisted.

"Yeah, _now_." Ron put in, dropping onto the bench at the Gryffindor table and reaching for a plate of chicken legs. "Was it me, or did Velange look more than just a bit nostalgic, talking about that necromancy stuff?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry shook his head. He really couldn't place Professor Velange as a Death Eater, or a servant of the Dark Arts, and yet something in his head was telling him she wasn't exactly who she claimed to be

Ron wasn't through. "I'm telling you - that's why she and Lauren managed to put the whammy on all of us at the dance! Trying to control fate!"

"Yes, no doubt the dream of every Dark wizard is to make teenagers drink, dance and snog like bunnies!" Hermione got up and moved to join Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting a good fifteen feet down the table.

"Why is she so convinced that Velange is innocent?" Ron groused, watching Hermione out of the corners of his eyes.

"Ron!" Ginny had appeared then, just in time to hear this last bit. She stood staring at them both. "You're not still on about that, are you?"

"Why am I the only who sees Velange for what she is?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring his sister. She glared at the pair of them, and stalked off to join her own dorm-mates. 

"Women," Ron mumbled.

***

On Thursday of that week, Harry was rushing down the corridor to meet with Professor Moody for his Dark Arts lessons when a hand on his shoulder made him jump. He turned around and was shocked to find himself facing Professor Trelawney. It was rare to see the Divination teacher outside her stifling tower classroom, and her flushed face and excited expression made him highly doubtful that she was carrying good news. "I'm late for a meeting, Professor-" he started to explain, looking frantically around the corridor for someone - anyone - who could rescue him from the predicament. Even Peeves would have been a welcome sight at the moment.

"This won't take but a moment, dear boy," Professor Trelawney said, her hand like a vise on his arm as she steered him inside an empty classroom. She shut the door behind them and then turned to face him. "I heard about your vision in Hogsmeade, and thought you might like to discuss its implications with an experienced seer prior to your meeting with Madame Vicarro."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say, "Yeah - do you know of any?" but decided not to. The last thing he needed was more homework. "Professor Dumbledore felt she would be able to help me understand what happened," he mumbled.

"Mmm." Her eyes flashed behind the large glasses. "Madame Vicarro is an excellent Ministry employee, but she does not fully understand the burden of the Inner Eye, especially on one so young." Harry fought not to roll his eyes at this statement. "Have you been practicing with the Tarot I gave you? They are an excellent tool at deciphering even the most obscure messages from the mystical plane."

"Um, not exactly," Harry said slowly. "Bit busy, lately. I'll see if I can use them tonight though. Thanks." He started inching for the door, but Trelawney put up a jeweled hand to stop him.

"Why don't you try now?"

"Well, like I said, I'm kind of late for a meeting," Harry said quickly, but Trelawney paid no attention.

"My dear boy, I have tried to warn you of the implications of ignoring your Gift, and you refuse to heed my words. Why do you think your vision was so powerful? If you try and bar the path of the super-conscious, it has no choice but to make its message known in other, more painful ways." She handed him a pack of Tarot, and waved him into a seat. "I speak from experience, child. There is no time like the present to begin understanding your Gift. Continue to ignore it, and it will merely become more and more impatient." Her fairy-light voice vanished and she said quietly, "In short, ignore the signs and you may end up a frequent visitor in Madame Pomfrey's ward. Do you understand?"

Wishing he could use simply Apparate away from this nutter of a teacher, Harry sat down resignedly at a desk, and shuffled the smooth cards. "Let's try a Celtic Cross Spread, shall we?" Trelawney persisted, sitting down next to him. "Clear your mind," she urged, "and shuffle until the cards tell you to stop."

Harry glared at her, but did as he was told. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shuffled for a few minutes, stopping at his eleventh cutting. After he had dealt the cards in the approved ten-card spread, he looked down at the Tarot.

Professor Trelawney said nothing, and merely watched him. "What does it mean?" Harry asked, not particularly liking the cards he had dealt. "I didn't even ask it a question."

"No, dear child, you did not - which means this revolves around issues surrounding you." She pointed to the first card - the reversed Devil card. "This is represents your basic situation, and the major forces at work around you. Tell me what the reversed Devil card means to you."

"The Devil card points to evil, danger and negative influences," Harry recited dully. "When reversed, it points to enemies who have hidden resentments that they may be unaware of, as well as a danger that is present but other forces are holding it in check."

"Child, I'll warn you _not_ to waste my time!" Trelawney snapped. "I didn't ask for you to regurgitate what it says in some text! I asked you what it means to _you!" _

Harry was shocked. He'd seen Trelawney angry before, but never like this. "I told you, I'm late for an appointment!" he snapped back. "Can't this wait?"

"Not when the cards have so clearly spoken to you - or would you like to have another vision like the last?" Trelawney was studying the cards, her glasses only a few inches from the pictures. "The Devil card represents you, dear boy - your denial of the situation around you, and the Gift you have been given. I also see you are fighting you own demons: guilt, anger, and your own temptations. A woman you feel you should not have, or cannot have?"

That shut Harry up. He slumped in his chair, remembering his own trepidation on whether or not his relationship with Ginny was placing her in danger. "What else?" he asked quietly.

She studied the cards: Justice, followed by the Ten of Swords, then three reversed cards: Judgement, the Aces of Wands and the Star. "You have enemies at your back, who have placed numerous conflicts before you, yet you have been blessed with the maturity to face them, mostly alone. A heavy decision was made, based on secrets and lies, and has since been reversed. I see a woman in your life, or more specifically, on the outskirts of it." She pointed to the reversed Empress. "Her family is fragmented, and her idealized image of romance has been shattered. She seeks a relationship with you, to recover from the trauma of the past." She looked up, her eyes glittering behind the thick glasses. "You are on the brink of a great discovery, which will lead you to a new relationship. This will have to proceed slowly, and you will have to find your heart willing to heal and allow this newcomer into your heart. Your main question revolves around Four of Cups - namely one who has been isolated from your life, and has a severe fear of disappointing you. The outcome, the two of swords," she let out a sigh, and Harry studied the card. It showed a woman sitting and holding two crossed swords, a blindfold across her eyes. "You will be faced with a decision; you may be forced to chose a side in a family argument. I see two people who would like to reconcile but don't know how to approach one another. If you handle the situation correctly, both sides will win."

Harry stared down at the cards. The picture of the Empresscould this represent his godmother? She had definitely been outside his life. Or did it represent Ginny - would his relationship with her place the entire Weasley family into jeopardy, and not only fragment it but her feelings for him? _Oh God, what if I get one of them killed, the way I did Cedric?_

He stood up suddenly, knocking the cards awry. "I have to go," he said firmly.

"Harry, wait-" Trelawney started to say urgently.

"I have to go NOW!" Harry all but shouted as he hurled himself out of the room, and ran down the corridor towards Moody's classroom. As soon as he was safely away from Trelawney, he ducked behind a large marble column, leaning against its cool surface and fighting to get a grip on himself. His heart was racing as though he had just run a mile, and his stomach lurched every time he thought of what the cards had said

This was no longer a joke. His second Tarot reading had been dead on target and its implications were beginning to unnerve him. Despite his worries for Ginny and her family, he had the distinct feeling that the cards were actually talking about his godmother, and the fact that she was both alive and looking for him. But then, how hard was it to find him? As the Boy who Lived, his actions had been well recorded in the _Daily Prophet. _It was hardly a secret that he was in school at Hogwarts, or that he had been Tri-Wizard Champion. And as far as her disappointing him, unless she had somehow been involved with his parents' death, that hardly seemed likelyhow could he be disappointed by someone he had never met?

__

Ah, but if she's alive, why hasn't she tried to find you before now? Said the little nagging voice in his head. _Sirius had a reason not to be in your life - he was locked away in Azkaban. If she was free to seek you before, why didn't she? You could have spent the last years away from the Dursleys._

__

Not if she was tucked away in St. Mungo's, she couldn't! he argued with himself.

__

But what if she wasn't? the voice said nastily. _What if she just couldn't be bothered?_

Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it stand upright. There was no point in this, he told himself fiercely. He could make himself mad thinking about what could have been, or should have been. But until he found her, he would never know the truth.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry continued down the corridor towards Moody's classroom. He hoped that a good long training session would help erase this newest sequence of events from his mind. However, upon entering the classroom he discovered a whole new set of worries.

Ginny was sitting a desk, talking intensely with Moody, and they were both waiting for him.

***

A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:

Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑ±hä, Erinyes, Johnny V,holly, tima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm,sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDemented, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, and the prodigious Unregistered.

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	14. Siren's Song Chapter 14

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song  
  
Author: jords  
  
Category: Drama/Romance  
  
Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations  
  
Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)  
  
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is far more complicated than just growing older.  
  
Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena   
(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)  
  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested. The references to the Three Great Mysteries are from Ly De Angeles' _Witchcraft: Theory and Practice. (_Llewellyn Publications, 2001) Once again I drew heavily on _QTTA _for help with the Quidditch scenes. Some of you may recognize bits of George W. Bush's speech from the National Day of Prayer in Moody's speech – specifically the reference to facing Voldemort on the time and day of your choosing. My thanks to my brother for helping me come up with Dark Arts defense spells and patiently helping me look them up via babelfish.com and Notre Dame's Latin translator. (I know no Latin, and my tenses could be horrifically awry - consider yourself warned) And for any who are interested, the Portuguese for _bathed in fire_ is _banhada no fogo port. _(or something like that.) Oh, and this is another _very long _ chapter – just under 9,000 words. Consider yourself warned.  
  
Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral, Elliott and Becky- my eternal thanks and praise. (Kestral – hope you're feeling better, sweets – you're in my prayers.)  
  


***  
  


Moody looked up as Harry entered the room, and there was no hint of a smile on his scarred face. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten what day it was, Potter. Miss Weasley and I have been waiting for you for over a quarter hour."  
  
"Ran into Professor Trelawney," Harry said quickly, before he plunged into what he really wanted to say. "Why is Ginny here?"  
  
Moody raised one eyebrow, a trick that Harry longed to be able to do. "She is here because I asked her to join us, Potter."  
  
Harry frowned. Ginny stood, her face anxious. "Harry, please don't be upset-"  
  
"I'm not upset," Harry said. _Right, and Cornelius Fudge isn't a great big pile of cowardly Jell-O, _that nagging little voice hissed in his head. "I'm just, um, surprised." He looked at his professor. "You still haven't told me why she's here."  
  
"Miss Weasley is here, Harry, because I think she needs to be here." Harry jumped at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. The Headmaster swept into the classroom, his expression uncharacteristically sober. "Alastor, if I may" he took a seat, and indicated for them to do likewise.  
  
"Alastor Moody has been training you to make you ready for what I feel is inevitable, Harry - your next encounter with Voldemort. I wish I could tell you that I was acting out of an overabundance of caution, but based on recent events that would be a complete lie. But I cannot risk having your friends unprepared. Voldemort will no doubt turn his attentions to those closest to you, as a way to beat down your defenses. And as your girlfriend," here Moody cleared his throat, looking a bit uncomfortable, but Dumbledore continued, "Miss Weasley is his most logical target. Partner that with the fact that she has already come under Voldemort's thrall once, and her likelihood of being chosen as his next target becomes almost a certainty."  
  
"Ron and Hermione-" Harry started, but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him.  
  
"Are excellent students, but neither have faced down Voldemort face to face. What Voldemort no doubt will see as a potential weakness in Miss Weasley will instead prove to be her most valuable weapon. She has seen him in action and knows to expect only the worst. Add to that her already extensive training in the Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as the quick thinking she has readily demonstrated in battling them," Dumbledore smiled at Ginny, who stared at the top of her desk, her cheeks a bright pink, "and I can think of no one who is better suited to train with you."  
  
Harry looked at Ginny, and then at Dumbledore. "Could we have a moment alone, please?" he asked, before reaching for Ginny's hand and practically dragging her from the classroom.   
  
As soon as they were out in the hallway, Harry put grasped both of Ginny's arms in his hands and said urgently, "Tell them you won't do it, Ginny."  
  
"What?" Ginny stared up at him. "You must be joking."  
  
"Oh, no I'm not!" Harry said, feeling frantic. "I won't have you going through these lessons - it'll only place you in more danger."  
  
"That doesn't even make sense!" Ginny said hotly. "And it really isn't up to you, is it? You heard Dumbledore, and if you think I'm facing Voldemort again without knowing about every weapon I can get my hands on, you're mad." She slapped at his hands then. "Let go of me," she said firmly.  
  
Harry grasped on to her even more tightly. "No, Gin - I won't. I shouldn't have ever gotten you involved in this. Voldemort's after me; I won't let you become his next target!"  
  
Ginny gave him a sharp look. "How exactly do you plan on stopping me? I've already told Moody I would, and besides, I _want_ to do it."  
  
"I don't want you prepared to fight Voldemort!" Harry practically shouted at her, before realizing how insane that sounded. "I mean, I don't want you thinking that you should fight him." Ginny glared at him, and Harry did his best to clarify. "That came out completely wrongI don't want you to risk yourself by trying to fight him, Ginny. I want you to stay as far away from him as possible!"  
  
If he thought this was going to appease her, he couldn't have been more wrong. Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Oh, of course, poor stupid Ginny should turn tail and run when Voldemort makes his next move. Sorry, Harry - that's not going to happen. You're not the only one he's tried to destroy, you know. This isn't just about you! At least Dumbledore and Moody give me credit for having the brains to recognize what's at stake, and let me choose for myself what I should do about it. Whereas my _boyfriend_," she practically hissed that word at him, "thinks I should stand idly by and let him get himself killed because he's too pigheaded to realize I might actually be able to _help_ him!" Her brown eyes glittered with a temper he recognized as being pure Weasley.  
  
"You're taking this all wrong-" Harry tried to say, but Ginny wrenched herself away from him rather hard then.  
  
"How exactly should I take it? You don't think I'm smart enough, or strong enough to face him? I'm not that silly little girl whose life you saved three years ago - and you're going to have to accept that fact, Harry." Her face was filled with a look of pure determinationone Harry all too easily recognized. He had seen Ron wear that same look when they had faced McGonagall's chess set, had witnessed it on Hermione's face before she climbed aboard Buckbeak. "If Moody says I can't do it, then I'll stop - but don't think you're going to talk me out of this through some pointless act of chivalry. You need every ally you've got, and that includes me!" She stalked back into the classroom then, while Harry gaped after her.  
  
Dumbledore joined him in the hallway. "Are you ready to begin now, Harry?" he asked, looking slightly amused.  
  
Harry shook his head, and then said in a harsh tone of voice he had never in a thousand years thought he would ever use when addressing Albus Dumbledore, "If she gets herself killed trying to prove a point, I will never forgive you." Then he too stalked into the classroom.  
  
Ginny didn't speak to Harry for the entire training session. How much of this could be blamed on their fight in the hallway was uncertain, however, as Moody lesson that evening left them both emotionally and physically drained.  
"Since Voldemort now knows that your wands will not battle, Harry, it is unlikely he will attempt to duel you againat least not face to face, and not at first. He'll more than likely try to get you away from your wand, and the protection it could provide. And as he tends to send others to do his dirty work for him, he'll probably send a flunky to bring you to him. So, first things first - how to take down a Death Eater, or even better, an army of Death Eaters."  
  
"You told us that the use of an Unforgivable would result in a life sentence in Azkaban, Professor," Harry said nervously.  
  
"Who said anything about using the Unforgivables, Harry?" Moody's smile was something terrible to behold. "There are other ways of defending yourself, and leveling your opponent." He held up a jar of spiders, and both Ginny and Harry took a step back, neither of them really wanting to watch what was to come next.  
  
"As witches and wizards, you are capable of great magicks, but each of you have access to your own personal store of powers. You, Harry, as a wizard, are capable of drawing on inner reserves of physical strength, courage, endurance and tolerance for pain. Whereas you, Ginny, have access to a witch's powers of preservation, formation, and transfiguration - the powers of the three Great Mysteries: birth, life, and death. Used together, they are almost unstoppable. One of Voldemort's greatest weaknesses lies in his almost complete exclusion of women from the ranks of power within his circle. He underestimates them, just as he underestimated Lily Potter." Ginny shot a quick look in Harry's direction. "A foolish arrogance we can exploit to our advantage. He will not bother to consider that you might be as well prepared as Harry to face him."  
  
"You cannot count on the fact that you will be lucky enough to face him together - so you will have to prepare yourselves to face him individually." His voice became matter of fact as he removed one spider from the jar and set it gently on top of the desk. "If you are tracked down by Death Eaters, always remember that your first and most important job is to escape. There's nothing cowardly about preservation - remember that. Better you live to face them another day, on _your_ terms and on the time and day of _your_ choosing."  
  
"So, how to defend yourselves and escape without resorting to the Unforgivables? By using other lesser known curses that will remove the threat. For example," Moody pointed his wand at the spider and bellowed, "_Secare!"  
  
_Harry's eyes widened as a flash of green enveloped the spider, and removed its legs. The body of spider flew across the desk, coming to land with awet _smack!_ at Ginny's feet. She blanched, but didn't look away. The spider's legs remained where they were, Harry noticed, and twitched as though in great pain.  
  
"The effect wears off eventually, of course, but that should still leave you with enough time to deal with any other attackers. The _Secare_ curse only works on one subject at a time, however, so you need to use it to remove the most offensive from the crowd before finishing off the weaker of your attackers." Moody said calmly. He was removing another spider from the jar, and it was doing its best to escape his grip. Harry didn't blame it in the slightest.  
  
"There are a number of minor torture curses as well - minor in that they are not forbidden according to Ministry of Magic regulations, but painful nonetheless." Moody pointed his wand again, and hissed, "_Deflagratio!"_ A wall of blue-black fire encased the spider, and Harry was sure if it had possessed a mouth, it would be screaming. Ginny's eyes were perfectly round now, and she seemed to be having difficulty in breathing.  
  
"_Finite Incantatem_," Moody muttered. The wall of fire vanished, and the spider laid quite still, an occasional spasm rocking its features. His expression was quite unreadable as he looked at Harry and Ginny. "It seems cruel, I know, but there are times when one must fight evil with evil. If either of you can't handle it, say so now, and spare me the wasted time."  
  
Harry looked over at Ginny. Her face was white, but there was no mistaking the determination in her eyes. She appeared to be steeling herself. Harry sighed._ If this is what it takes to keep her and everyone I know and love safe, so be it._ "Show us what we have to do," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.  
  


***  


  
As soon as they left the classroom Harry reached for Ginny's hand, and was not surprised when she pulled away. "Talk to me, " he implored her.  
  
"I can't," she said, stopping to look up at him. He was startled to see that her eyes were full of tears. "Not after that."  
  
_This is exactly why I didn't want her here._ Harry reached down and stroked away a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Especially after that," he said gently.  
  
Ginny burst into tears, and flung herself against him. Harry wrapped one arm around her waist, and stroked her hair with the other hand. "It's ok," he murmured. "It's going to be ok."  
  
"No, it's not!" Ginny hiccupped against his shoulder. She pulled away. "I kept trying to rationalize things, telling myself they were only spiders. And then I managed to convince myself that they were only Death Eaters, and we were protecting ourselves. But then I just got angrier and angrier, thinking about what that bastard did to me, and to you, and then I didn't care how much I was hurting those creatures, so long as they suffered!" Her hands were shaking as she pushed hair out of her face. "I don't want to be like them, Harry, and get some sick thrill out of watching others in pain!"  
  
"Hey, now!" Harry said, somewhat alarmed. She was really doing quite a number on herself. "No one thinks you would ever get a second's pleasure out of that - least of all me. But you can't think that this makes you like them, Ginny. Voldemort tortures and kills people for fun - we're learning how to fight back out of necessity." He kissed her forehead, and hugged her tightly against him. "I was wrong, you know. I didn't want you to see this, because I don't want you to ever have to experience what he did to you again. But you were right - you need to know how to fight back." A small grin crossed his features. "And God help the Death Eater who tangles with you," he said, remembering how quickly Ginny had mastered _Deflagratio, _the Black Burn.  
  
Ginny shook her head, still looking upset. "It's just that, I remember what Dad told me on how magic has its own way of balancing things. This is Dark Magic we're talking about, Harry - what if it comes back to haunt us?"  
  
"What if we're supposed to be the balancing act?" Harry answered her softly. "Moody told me something this summer about using the Dark Arts. He asked if it could really be considered Dark Magic if a wizard used it to keep himself from being killed. And if I have use the Dark Arts to protect people I care for, then that's what I'll do. We already lost CedricI can't watch anyone else die because I didn't know how to stop Voldemort." He smiled down at her. "Does that make me a Dark Wizard?"  
  
Ginny smiled tremulously. "You couldn't be a Dark Wizard if your life depended on it, Harry - you're just not wired that way." As they headed up to Gryffindor tower, however, the nasty voice in Harry's head hissed, _What if someone else's life depended on it?  
  
_

***  
  


The Saturday after Halloween dawned cool and crisp. Unlike Gryffindor's last match against Hufflepuff, the skies were clear, without a cloud in the sky. Yet Harry was a bundle of nerves. He suddenly missed Oliver Wood with a shocking intensity: Oliver had always epitomized Quidditch insanity so the rest of the team could focus on day-to-day life. Now it fell to Harry to make sure the team was up, dressed, fed and on the Quidditch field on time. How hard could that be?  
  
A lot harder than it sounded. Harry managed to rouse his own dorm-mates rather easily by getting dressed very loudly, stomping about the room, and finally throwing Pig out the window so his loud shriek of happiness that anyone was actually paying attention to him could be heard a half-mile away. Even so, he'd resorted to transfiguring Seamus' blankets into a pair of rabbits that had hopped all over his Beater as they tried (unsuccessfully) to reproduce. But that was nothing compared to the task of waking the twins.  
  
He'd enlisted Ron to help him out, and the younger Weasley had taken enthusiastically to the task of rousing his brothers. But though they tried yelling, begging, pleading, dousing them with water, and even banishing their bedclothes to the top of the tower, the twins refused to wake for longer than a few minutes. Harry had learned the hard way that just because a Weasley said they were up didn't actually mean they were conscious and moving towards the door. (George had faked him out two times that morning already. Once by sitting bolt upright and reaching for his slippers, before grabbing his wand and transfiguring a chair into a spider that chased Ron around the room. The second time he had somehow placed an invisible ward around the bed that prevented sound from transmitting in to where he was peacefully sleeping.) Desperate, Harry charged into the girls' dormitory to wake Hermione, successfully spying Parvati in some sort of odd greenish facial crème that made her look like she was molding.  
  
"DO something!" Harry implored Hermione, as he propelled her up the stairs, while she glared back at him. "We've only got two hours until the match, and they still need to shower, change, eat, and warm-up!"  
  
"It's Fred and George - they can be dressed and on the field in 8 minutes!" she yawned, not seeing the urgency of the situation. Seeing Harry's pleading expression, she relented. "Oh, very well." She pointed her wand at the twins' beds. _"Expelliarmus!"  
  
_As though they had been shot from a catapult, the twins were forcibly ejected from their beds and out the door into the hallway, where a crowd had gathered to watch the excitement. Fred and George realized too late that their choice of pajamas, (George was wearing a pair of formerly white boxers that his mother had accidentally made pink in the wash paired with a matching tank top, while Fred was wearing a pair of hideously loud orange plaid flannels and an equally offensive yellow t-shirt with a faded smiley face on it.) were now public knowledge for all of Gryffindor tower to relish. They had slunk off to the showers while Hermione stretched luxuriously.   
  
"Sometimes the simplest solutions are the most effective," she smiled brightly at Harry. "See you at breakfast."  
  
Once the team was successfully assembled in the Great Hall, Harry hounded them to make sure they ate enough, had their coffee and juice, and checked his watch every five minutes to make sure they weren't running late while picking unenthusiastically at his toast. The second he felt they had all had enough to eat, he shepherded them out of the Hall and down onto the grounds in the direction of the locker rooms.  
  
Ron was becoming more and more anxious as the time for the match approached, finally giving into nerves and running for a toilet as his stomach revolted against the concept of breakfast. Katie and Alicia were frantically discussing the new passing formation they had developed after witnessing a Hufflepuff practice session. Fred, George, and Angelina sat on a bench looking perfectly relaxed and watching their teammates work themselves into something of a frenzy. Finally, Fred caught Harry by the arm.  
  
"Entertaining as it is watching you pace a hole in the ground that will one day reach Australia, do you think you could possibly say a few words to calm these nutters down? Honestly, it's just Hufflepuff - we're not exactly facing Puddlemere United, you know."  
  
"And even if we were, we'd still clean their clocks," George said soothingly.   
"Or so sayeth all good captains during their pep talks."  
  
"Right," Harry nodded, "pep talk." The entire team was looking at him now, and he cast his mind about frantically for something uplifting to say. Ron looked at him very seriously, as if actually trying to _will_ him into calming down. He took a deep breath, and started.  
  
"This match isn't going to be a picnic, no matter what we may have heard about Hufflepuff's lineup. I know this is going to sound harsh, but we cannot lose ourselves in the emotions that this game is going to churn up. They are going to want to win this in memory of Cedric. Well, I want us to play the game of our lives to _honour_ Cedric." Harry could still hear Dumbledore's words in his mind, _"Remember Cedric Diggory."  
  
_"This game represents a lot of things, but most of all it represents the fact that life _will_ go on. We will pause, and honour and remember Cedric, not just because it's the right thing to do, but because he loved playing this game, just as we love playing it." Angelina had tears running down her cheeks at this point, and Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. "Play today the way he played in every match, in honour of our classmate." Harry stopped, and looked around. He'd never spoken so strongly about his feelings on this game to anyone before, and now that he had, he wondered how the others would take it.  
  
George broke the ice first. "For Ced," he said, standing up and pulling on the long black armband they would all be wearing for today's game. Fred followed suit, saying in a choked voice, "For Ced" as he too tied on his black armband. One by one, the entire team said Cedric's name as they pulled on the black armbands emblazoned with the Hufflepuff crest that Angelina and Katie had made for them. And as one, they trooped out of the locker rooms.  
  
Lee and Hermione were already in the teacher's booth and were discussing the statistics of the match as the Gryffindors, Harry in the lead, made their way onto the field.  
  
"And here come the Gryffindors, led by their new captain, Harry Potter." Lee called into his magical megaphone. (He and Hermione now each had one.) "In a remarkable show of sportsmanship and school unity, the entire team has chosen to remember the former Hufflepuff Captain, Cedric Diggory, with traditional armbands of mourning. What an incredibly moving scene, as the new Hufflepuff captain, Matthew Dailey, shakes hand with Harry Potter, while each player on the Gryffindor team shakes hands with his or her counterpart"  
  
Dailey, a Hufflepuff seventh year whom Harry had played against but had never actually spoken to, gripped Harry's hand somewhat harder than was necessary. "This means a lot, Potter," he said, his voice sounding tight in his throat. "Thanks."  
  
"We all miss him, Daileywe thought your House should know that," Harry answered. They watched as Angelina, Alicia and Katie gave their opposing Chasers hugs, while the rest shook hands and murmured words of sympathy and support.  
  
"And now," Hermione's voice rang across the subdued stands, "please stand and join us in a moment of silence while we remember our fallen classmate and friend, Cedric Diggory."   
  
They did it, all of them - even the Slytherins. There were a few choked sobs from the Hufflepuff stands. Harry caught sight of Professor Sprout, standing with her arm around Cho Chang, who was crying openly. Harry closed his eyes, and said a silent prayer in the seconds that passed, feeling the light breeze tickle against his skin while the crowds surrounding the field were amazingly still. It was a moment he would never forget - the feeling of having hundreds of his fellow students joined in a common purpose, and remembering their friend.  
  
"Thank you," Hermione said after the minute was over. Harry nodded to Matthew, and turned to his team. "It's time," he said grimly, and mounted his broom.  
  
"And now, allow me to introduce the Hufflepuff lineup!" Lee shouted, while the Hufflepuffs burst into loud cheers. "On Chaser: Rebecca Olson, Serena De Lyes, and Susan Bones!" The three girls, dressed in Hufflepuffs colours of canary yellow and black, shot off into the air. "On Beater: Ernie MacMillan and Adam Montgomery!" A set of boys flew off after the Chasers. "On Keeper: Justin Finch-Fletchley!" Harry couldn't help but grin as Justin flew past, whooping loudly. "And on Seeker - Matthew Dailey!" Lee drew out this last bit, much the way that Ludo Bagman had at the World Cup. It was a different style of commentating, but Harry rather liked it. He suspected Hermione had pestered Lee with tips - she had been researching different styles of commentating, going so far as to order a book on an American basketball commentator, Dick Vitale.  
  
"And now, allow me to introduce the Gryffindor lineup!" Hermione said, her excitement plainly obvious in her voice. "On Chaser: Head Girl Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell!" The three Gryffindor chasers screamed in delight as they were announced, looking like brilliant red blurs as they took to the sky. "On Beater: George and Fred Weasley!"   
  
"That's the Wonder-twins Forge and Gred to you!" Fred yelled as he and George mounted their brooms and joined their teammates.  
  
"On Keeper: Ron Weasley!" Ron no longer looked a bit nervous as he mounted and flew off in the direction of the goals. In fact, he looked as though he was having the time of his life, and he blew Hermione a kiss in passing.  
  
"And on Seeker - Harry Potter!" Harry followed his teammates, and took his regular post high above the game as Madam Hooch stepped onto the field, carrying the heavy box of balls. She kicked it open, and both the Bludgers and the Snitch flew into the air, and began streaking around the field.   
  
"The Quaffle is released - and the game begins!" Lee shouted as Madam Hooch threw the vivid red ball high into the air. "And it's Katie Bell in possession, Bell swerving up the field as she and her fellow Chasers expertly pass the ball up the field, using a version of the Woollongong Shimmy!"  
  
"The Woolongong Shimmy, as avid Quidditch fans well know, was perfected by the Australian Woollongong Warriors during their famous 14 hour match in 1958 against the Moutohora Macaws of New Zealand" Hermione broke in.  
  
"If it's so well-known, then why in blazes are you commenting on it?" Lee demanded.  
  
"For the education of the students present who may not have memorized _Quidditch Through the Ages_!" Hermione shot back.  
  
"What are they supposed to do, reference footnotes to understand what you're rattling about?"  
  
"Jordan! Granger! Would you please get back to telling us about the match or is this a new style of commentating that makes no mention of what is actually taking place on the field - _such as Miss Johnson's successful goal!"_   
Professor McGonagall's voice rang out, and Harry had to choke back a laugh. This could prove even more entertaining than he'd imagined.  
  
Two sheepish voices were heard saying "Sorry, Professor," before Lee again seized control of the commentary by saying, "Gryffindor scores - ten to zero! Hufflepuff in possession, and it's De Lyes, to Olson, back to De Lyes, to Bones - ooh, nice Bludger work there by Fred Weasley."  
  
"Spectacular, but that was actually dealt by his equally talented twin _George_ Weasley," Hermione's voice cut in.  
  
"They're my roommates - you think I honestly can't tell them apart after seven years?" Lee bellowed at her.  
  
"Obviously not, since you said the wrong name!" Hermione yelled back.   
  
"Get on with it!" the crowd in the stands roared at them, not waiting for McGonagall to break them up this time.  
  
"Right!" Hermione and Lee both called, before Hermione began a long drawn out commentary on the history of the position of Chaser, ("originally known as Catcher, the name was officially changed to Chaser in 1419") while Lee did his best to ignore her and commented on the game itself. "Nice save by Keeper Ron Weasley, maintaining the score at Gryffindor 10 - Hufflepuff Zero!"  
  
Harry did a little sequence of loops in midair to show his support for Ron before he refocused on hunting for the Snitch. A glimmer of gold, a flash of something metallic - but all he saw was green grass and the shimmering blurs of the other players moving quickly down the field. He quickly looked around for Dailey, and saw that the opposing Seeker was looking equally frustrated as he craned his head, looking frantically around the pitch.  
  
"Bones with the Quaffle now, she zooms in on Weasley while her fellow Chasers stray dangerously close to the scoring zonean offense known in most minds as _stooging_ but apparently is now just being viewed as a woman's prerogative to tease!" Lee called, before placing his hand over the megaphone to yell, Where's the call, Hooch? Or have you taken one too many bludgers to the head, you blind cow...  
  
Jordan! One more comment like that and I will ban you from the commentator box! McGonagall's fury was drowned out by the call of "Foul!" that was being yelled by hundreds of Gryffindor supporters as Rebecca Olson flew upwards just on the edge of the scoring area, drawing Ron's attention while Susan Bones hurled the Quaffle towards the goal. Ron managed to launch himself in front of the ball just in time by throwing his body prone across his broomstick and blocking it with his head. Unfortunately, he managed to nearly concuss himself on his broomstick at the same time, and Hermione let out a scream of fury as she realized that Ron was bleeding freely.  
  
"Language, Miss Granger!" McGonagall yelled furiously as Hermione let loose with a stream of epithets in Susan Bones' direction that left Lee at a complete loss for words. He recovered only after Hermione gave him a hard nudge in the ribs and hissed, "Are you planning on saying anything the rest of the match, or were you just going to sit there and bond with the megaphone?  
  
Lee shot her a nasty look and started again. "It's Angelina Johnson with the Quaffle, closely marked by Serena De Lyes and Rebecca Olson." Lee said. "There's a Bludger - watch out, Angelina! Ooh, the Quaffle is picked up by Susan Bones. She streaks towards the goals and is met by Keeper Ron Weasley"  
  
"Susan Bones is 0-4 on scoring attempts today, while Ron Weasley is 6-0 on blocks," Hermione interrupted. "Hufflepuff Captain Matthew Dailey has no doubt prepared his Chasers well to face this kind of defense however, as Bones executes a perfect Reverse Pass off to Olson, who banks a shot off her broom tail - she scores!"  
  
"Whose side are you _on_, anyway?" Lee shouted in outrage, as Ron's blocking attempt failed. Grimacing, Ron dove after the Quaffle. He managed to catch it just before it hit the ground, before he zoomed back up in the air and threw it up the field to Alicia Spinnet.  
  
"Do you even know what unbiased commentating _means?"_ Hermione retaliated. "Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor in possession, nice swerve to miss the Bludger work by Ernie MacMillan of Hufflepuff, and Spinet easily draws off the attention of Keeper Justin Finch-Fletchley as yes! She rebounds her own shot off the right goal to score! 20-10 for Gryffindor!"  
  
"Oh, yes baby! Clean the field with him!" Lee yelled to Alicia, who grinned at him and flew off after Serena De Lyes.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the score was tied 40-40, and neither team seemed to be losing any energy. Harry was starting to wonder if the Snitch would ever make an appearance when a shimmer of gold by Adam Montgomery's knee made him tear off in the direction of the Hufflepuff Chaser. Matthew Dailey had clearly seen it to, as he came streaking up the field from where he'd been circling the Gryffindor end zone.  
  
_Bam! _A Bludger came hurtling in his direction. Adam, completely unaware of the fact that the Snitch was a mere six inches from his head by now, had sent the heavy iron ball in Harry's direction. Harry couldn't dive - he would be temporarily off target and possibly allow Matthew to beat him to the Snitch. Suddenly, he remembered Ginny's tryout - and opted instead to jump over the offending Bludger, resettling himself on his broom seconds later. Adam looked as though he'd just been hit with _the Petrificus Totalus_ charm.   
  
"Did you see that?" Hermione shrieked, as every person in the stands gasped and yelled their approval. "Harry Potter, long rumored to be one of the most talented Seekers in Hogwarts' history-"  
  
"What happened to providing unbiased commentary?" Lee demanded.  
  
Harry didn't hear a word of their ongoing argument. He threw himself forward and caught the Snitch in his right hand, as the Gryffindors in the stands went wild.  
  
"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!" Lee Jordan was yelling at the top of his lungs, while Hermione burst into excited tears. "Hermione, you idiot, we won! Why in blazes are you crying??" But their yells could scarcely be heard over the ruckus of the Gryffindor fans that were streaking onto the field, welcoming their players back to the ground.  
  
Harry, grinning broadly, looked across the field to see Ginny running straight at him, her brown eyes shining with pride. And then he looked at the Hufflepuffs - and his grin faded.  
  
Matthew Dailey was on the field, calling his players over. Susan Bones was crying, her fellow Chasers Serena De Lyes and Rebecca Olson staring stonily at the ground. Adam Montgomery still looked stunned, and Hannah Abbot was hugging Justin Finch-Fletchley. Matthew looked over at him, and a kind of resigned smile crossed his features.   
  
"Nice game, Potter." Matthew held out his hand for Harry to shake. "Hell of a catch."  
  
Harry bit his lip, frantically searching for what he should say. "Had to be, in order to beat you to it," he said finally, firmly shaking the Hufflepuff captain's hand. "You have a hell of a team, Dailey."  
  
Matthew's smile widened. "That we do." The rest of the Hufflepuffs silently followed him off the field, and their entire house got to their feet cheering them madly. After a long moment, the rest of the stands joined in.  
  
Ginny had reached Harry by now, and had given him a quick kiss. "You were great!" she said, eyes dancing.  
  
"We all were great," Harry said softly, taking her hand in his, and watching the Hufflepuffs moving towards their locker rooms.  
  
"All of us."  
  


***  
  
  


The Gryffindor team was in high spirits as they entered the Common Room, a fresh burst of applause erupting at the sight of them.  
  
Ron! You were incredible! Hermione squealed, throwing her arms around him. Ron beamed down at her, ignoring the catcalls of his brothers as he pulled her close for a kiss.  
  
That cup is as good as ours! squealed Lavender Brown from her spot beside Seamus Finnegan. He and Lee looked as excited as the rest of team, and Harry couldn't help grinning as he looked around the shining faces that surrounded him. He pushed the thought of what the Hufflepuffs must be feeling firmly from his mind. _Cedric would want us to celebrate this,_ he told himself.   
  
Despite the allure of the impromptu party that had begun, Harry slipped upstairs and into his dorm room. He was still scheduled to meet with Draco that night to work on the _Impenetrable_ potion, and he was sure it would not be a fun session. If nothing else, Slytherin loyalty would keep Draco sneering the entire evening.  
  
Just as Harry reached for a dark green jumper, there was a soft knock at the door. Just a minute! Harry called frantically, attempting to cram the sweater over his head.   
  
It's just me. Ginny's soft voice filled the shadowy room. He heard her hesitate, before shutting the door behind her with a soft _click.  
  
_Gasping in surprise, Harry managed to locate the neckline of his sweater and pushed his head through the opening to stare at her. Ginny – you shouldn't be up here!  
  
Please – I'm not likely to see anything I haven't seen before. I do have six brothers, remember? Ginny looked around the room, and Harry became suddenly conscious of the fact that he had piled his drawers on top of his bed that morning in a frenzied search for the chain Ginny had given his to wear with his Quidditch robes.   
  
Hmm. Not exactly neat freaks, are you? Her eyes widened as she saw the pile of Muggle flesh magazines piled at the end of Dean's bed. Oh, my – Parvati wouldn't like to know about _that!_  
  
Harry crossed in front of her to keep her from seeing the particularly suggestive cover. Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing up here?   
  
Well, I knew you would be in a hurry to get to your Potions session, and I wanted to give you this before you left. Without warning, she suddenly pounced, locking her arms around his neck and kissing him.  
  
Harry was so surprised by this unusually aggressive side of Ginny that he found himself frozen in shock, before his arms automatically encircled her waist, one hand reaching up beneath her thick hair to drag his fingers through the silken strands at the base of her neck. She groaned softly, and her tongue eagerly sought his, as her hands freely explored his back. They slid up under his jumper and he jumped at the feel of her hands against his skin. _God, she tastes good, _was his one rational thought before he focused on the task at hand.  
  
Harry lost himself in her kiss for a few minutes before managing to pull away. _Ginny – what on earth?_ He managed to get out, holding her at arm's length.  
  
Her brown eyes laughed up at him. Oh, I'm sorry – would you prefer I did that downstairs – in front of my brothers?  
  
Not exactly, Harry said dryly, envisioning the looks on Fred, George and Ron's faces if they had seen their little sister's actions just now.   
  
Ginny looked up at him, some of the elation in her features fading. I thought you'd like it she said, letting go of him. I'm sorry-  
  
No, no – I did. You just took me by surprise. Harry couldn't stand to hear the hurt in her voice, and he pulled her closely against him, tucking her head against his chest. It was a nice surprise, he added. Then he started laughing.  
  
Ginny pulled away, starting to look angry. It's not funny!  
  
Yes it is! Harry stopped laughing long enough to explain. You have no idea how many times something like this has happened in my dreams – and now that it has, I completely blew it. Typical Potter charm. He grinned down at her, and the anger that had flared in her eyes faded as quickly as it had appeared.   
  
Really? You, uh, dream about me? Her voice had suddenly grown husky, and her eyes were dancing. Why, Mr. Potter – I thought your dreams revolved solely around two things: Quidditch, and broomsticks.  
  
_Dangerous ground,_ he thought. Harry had dreamt of Ginny, of course – but those dreams had been a rare moment of respite from his usual blood and death filled nightmares.   
  
Well, that too – and I just realized I am not going to continue this conversation here. Harry took her hand and pulled her towards the door. That way lies the path of much embarrassment and confessions I'd rather not share just yet. Safely outside the dorm room, he bent and kissed her softly. Tell you what – I should be done with the Malfoy torture session by 9 – why don't I meet you by the fire, and we'll sneak off to the Astronomy Tower to continue this, erm, conversation there? He gave her a suggestive wink and she giggled.  
  
Deal. I haven't _really_ congratulated you properly yet, you know? Ginny's eyes were dancing mischievously. Besides, that way I can make sure you don't waste an entire Saturday night with the likes of _Draco Malfoy.  
  
_Funny girl. Harry gave her bottom a soft _smack! _as they headed down the stairs. Just before they reached the landing, he pulled her back for another long kiss. I'll see you at nine, he said finally, letting her go regretfully.  
She nodded, somewhat dazed, and headed towards the fire where Fred and George were mercilessly imitating Lee and Hermione's commentary. Harry smiled as he headed towards the portrait hole.  
  
He was stopped on his way down to the dungeons by the sudden appearance of Filch. And exactly where do you think _you're _going? the grizzled caretaker sneered at him. Why aren't you up in your Common Room with the rest of your nasty little friends, watching those bloody twins make fools of themselves?  
  
I am working on a special project with Professor Snape, Harry retorted, refusing to let Filch's usual bullying unnerve him. Check with him if you don't believe me.  
  
Filch's smile was truly an awful sight to behold – mostly because of where the missing teeth revealed blackened gums. Odd claim, boy, because I was just down in the dungeons and Professor Snape was no where to be seen.  
  
Harry was taken aback by this revelation. Before his mind could come up with a suitable excuse, he heard a cold drawling voice and experienced something he never thought he would feel at the sound of it – relief.  
  
About time you bothered showing up, Potter. Draco Malfoy appeared on the steps then, looking rather bored by the show in front of him. Relax, Filch – I have a note from Professor Snape that explains it all – not the least of which is why we're working together.  
  
Filch snatched the bit of parchment from Draco's outstretched hand, and held it up to one of the overhead torches, as though determined to detect a forgery. Really, Filch – you can check with the Headmaster if you don't believe us. Now, if you'll excuse us – Potter and I have work to do. You know, the kind that excludes Squibs. Malfoy jerked his head in the direction of the Potions lab. Coming already, Potter?  
  
Too dazed to reply, Harry followed Malfoy into the lab and shut the door behind them, pointedly ignoring Filch's angry wheezes. What was all that about? Harry asked. And where is Snape tonight, anyway?  
  
You're _welcome_, Potter. Jesus, didn't your mother teach you any manners before she- Malfoy broke off, and had the grace to look away at the sudden grunt of anger from Harry. Anyway, Snape said he was busy tonight and that we should check in with Flitwick if we needed anything.  
  
_That was odd_, Harry thought. Snape was rarely more than a dozen or so feet away whenever he and Malfoy were working on the _Impenetrable_ solution. What, he had a hot date? Harry asked, even as he wished he hadn't. The vision of Snape participating in any sort of dating ritual made him feel slightly ill – not to mention incredibly sorry for the unwitting female involved.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed. Might be – he seemed in a great hurry to resume talking with Velange when he came to let me know.   
  
Harry managed to restrain the sound of disgust that _this_ news elicited. Ok, well – let's get started then, shall we?  
  


***  
  


_Damn it!_ Harry swore vehemently as their latest batch of _Impenetrable_ potion managed to completely dissolve the beaker holding it and began eating its way through the tabletop.  
  
Well, I did try and warn you – graphorn hide and essence of belladonna tend to repel one another. Draco looked somewhat amused as he peered through the hole the potion had made in the scarred wood. That is one mess I won't be explaining to Professor Snape, he added, reaching for a vial of Bundimun secretion and pouring it on the now smoking liquid on the floor.  
  
How can you sit there and look so unconcerned? Harry snapped at him, snatching the vial from Malfoy's hands and pouring it onto a rag before he started wiping up the last of their failed potion attempt. We should have figured this out by now! We're wasting time – and all you can do is make ridiculous observations about my mistakes! Or is that the Slytherin definition of being helpful?  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. Talk about a drama queenthis isn't exactly my idea of a good time, Potter. Blaise's birthday was tonight, and I could be off sharing a rather special moment with a beautiful woman – instead I'm listening to you whine- He stopped suddenly, and his eyes darted towards the door.  
  
Well, don't let me stop you from what was sure to be a stellar evening of romance – Harry started.  
  
Shut up, Potter, Malfoy said from between gritted teeth, jerking his head towards the door. Harry was quickly silenced at the sound of angry voices in the hallway.  
  
I cannot believe you would allow those creatures to conduct a meeting _here_, Severus! The unmistakable sound of Professor McGonagall's voice reached their ears. As if they had planned it, both boys sidled towards the door of the laboratory and pressed their ears against the entrance to Snape's office.  
  
I told you, Minerva, that Marie Priscus made it perfectly clear that she has no interest in coming any closer to the school then the forest. As we need her support in order to hopefully persuade the entire Council to join us, I felt a show of trust necessary-  
  
I cannot believe that Albus Dumbledore would agree to allow those, those_ – monsters_ – within a thousand yards of Hogwarts!  
  
Minerva, please- that was unmistakably Professor Velange's voice, we have taken every precaution-  
  
Every precaution! Harry had never heard his Head of House sound more outraged. They are evil, unnatural creatures who live to destroy human lives! The thought of placing any sort of trust in their word is an insult to those their kind has destroyed throughout the centuries!  
  
And unless we want their kind to rejoin the likes of Voldemort, I would suggest that we place our prejudices to the side for the moment, Moody's rasp was heard to say.  
  
There was a long silence, and then McGonagall spoke again. Very well. Do what you feel is necessary, and I – I shall do as I feel is necessary, to protect the students whose lives have been entrusted to us. There was an icy silence before Harry heard McGonagall say in a low urgent tone, I beg you to approach them with the utmost caution, all of you. It would hardly do for two of our best teachers to be killed by those whom they claim to trust. A door shut quietly then, and Harry heard Moody's voice fill the room.  
  
I plan to stay here and stand guard with Minerva. Are you sure the two of you can control the situation?  
  
The _three_ of us will be just fine, said another voice that made Harry gasp with shock. Malfoy tread on his foot, and gave him an angry, warning look. _Lauren Velange._ What on earth was going on?  
  
You'll forgive me, girl, but I'm not placing much confidence in your abilities to take on the Priscus and their like. They aren't exactly the kind of thing a _folk singer_ is used to dealing with. Moody's voice was little more than a growl.  
  
Screw you, old man! You have no idea what I'm used to dealing with- Lauren retorted angrily, but Snape's voice cut silkily through the room.  
  
A little decorum, if you please, Lauren. You're here because your sister has spoken to your abilities in dealing with such creatures, and for no other reason. It would be prudent of you to remember that.  
  
An uncomfortable silence followed before Moody spoke again, distain clear in every word. Very well. If I don't see you lot return before midnight, however, your Priscus had best make themselves scarce. It's been a while since I used a crossbow and stake, but that doesn't mean I don't remember how.  
  
Of course, Moody. Your concern is touching. _Only Snape could twist something as profound as legitimate concern into an insult, _Harry thought wildly.  
  
There was the sound of chairs scraping the floor, and of the door opening and closing again. Harry and Draco managed to get away from the doorway and back to their desk just as the door to the laboratory opened again and Professor Moody stepped inside. He gave them both suspicious looks before he said, It's getting late, boys – I suggest you finish this up and get up to your dorms. His magical eye lingered on the still smoking floor, while his normal eye swung to look at Harry. Having some problems?  
  
No, sir, Harry said. Malfoy bit back an angry noise in his throat as Harry stepped firmly on his left foot. We'll be done here in just a moment.  
  
Very well, Potter. I'll see you in the morning. With a final look at the pair of them, Moody clunked his way out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.  
  
What's the big idea, Potter? Malfoy said at once. These shoes aren't exactly cheap, you know! As if to demonstrate, Malfoy placed one gleaming leather-cased foot up on the desktop and proceeded to wipe the marks from Harry's trainers off of it. The shoes looked as though they cost more than everything in the Burrow combined.   
  
And Harry thought he glimpsed a bit of fake bravado in Malfoy's tone. It was this that made him say aloud what he was thinking. They're going to the Forest, he said slowly, the memory flashing back to him of Snape, Velange and Lauren sneaking off in the direction of the forest.  
  
So I gathered. Malfoy said darkly. What of it?  
  
Harry turned to glare at him. Does _nothing _penetrate that perfectly gelled hair of yours, Malfoy? They're meeting with some of Voldemort's old supporters, trying to keep them on our side.  
  
Our side? Malfoy rolled his eyes. Your side, Potter. I'm just in this for the extra credit points Snape promised me-   
  
Harry didn't let him finish, catching him firmly by the arm as Malfoy attempted to make his way towards the door. Do you really want Voldemort back in power, Malfoy? Really and truly?   
  
Something glittered behind those silver eyes. Have I ever said otherwise?  
You've never said either way, Harry retorted, not releasing his grip on Malfoy's arm. So now I'm going to give you a chance to make your loyalties known at last. Look me in the eye and tell me that you relish the thought of having that damned Mark burned into your arm, and the thought that you'll be another one of Voldemort's flunkies, licking his robes and following his orders. Tell me you like the idea of torturing and killing innocent people! Tell me that you want to become _exactly like your father!_ Harry was breathing hard as he spat this last bit out, his adrenaline rushing through his veins. Moment of truth, Malfoy – what's it going to be? Be a sniveling piece of Death-Eater filth, or be a man in your own right?  
  
Malfoy's eyes flashed, and he jerked his arm away. Where do you think you're going? Harry asked, wondering if he might have pushed to hard, and how he was going to explain this to Snape if they'd lost Malfoy because of _his_ needling.  
  
I'm going to get my invisibility cloak, you incredibly dense prat! Or did you think we might get past McGonagall without it?  
  


***  
  


A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:  
Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑhä, Erinyes, Johnny V, holly, tima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm, sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDemented, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, Starlite, baby norbert, Alyssa Potter, Majorca, Ennacie, H. Sanders, Lidder Deed, Lolli Potter and the prodigious Unregistered. And in response to all your questions re: who Harry's godmother is: _I'll never tell _ Ok I will, but not yet!  
  
Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcome!


	15. Siren's Song Chapter 15

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song  
  
Author: jords  
  
Category: Drama/Romance  
  
Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations  
  
Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)  
  
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is much more complicated than just growing older.  
  
Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena   
(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)  
  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.  
  
The vampire clan names and characters are from the now-defunct online RPG _90 Park_ that I helped to create some years ago. The name for Fridwulfa's tribe of giants comes from the theory of Artus Wicca, developed by Ceisiwr Serith. The word Gwomater' means Cow Mother', one of the two sides of the Goddess Maghya. (Ly De Angeles _Witchcraft: Theory and Practice._ Llewellyn Publications, 2001)   
  
Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral, Elliott, J.A.A., Elizabeth Culmer and Becky SilverDove - my eternal thanks and praise. You have really helped to shape this story into becoming what it is, and all my kudos for your patience in helping me to write it. Go check out Becky's work, Harry Potter and the Lost Prophecy, at http://www.schnoogle.com/authorLinks/SilverDove/ and Elizabeth's Work, Secrets, at http://www.schnoogle.com/authorLinks/Elizabeth_Culmer/ on Schnoogle right now! (ok, not right now, right now – once you've read and reviewed this – then go!)  
  


***  
  


If anyone had told Harry that morning over his kippers and toast that he would find himself cloistered under Draco Malfoy's invisibility cloak that night, sneaking off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest to witness some sort of dangerous meeting between Snape, Velange, Lauren and a woman named Marie Priscus, he would have said that they were out of their minds.  
  
Draco apparently felt the same way.  
  
Tell me again _why_ I'm doing this? he hissed as the two of them reached the edge of the woods. The last time I was in this forest with you, I seem to recall seeing something that scared Hagrid's stupid mongrel half to death.  
  
I seem to recall that Fang wasn't the only one who cut and ran, Harry retorted, before he remembered they were supposed to be invisible. And keep your voice down, he hissed.   
  
We're wearing an _invisibility_ cloak, Potter. If they hear us, which they won't so long as you learn to walk without slapping those big feet down like you have something against the earth, they'll probably think it's just ghosts. Malfoy didn't sound as though he really believed a word he'd just said, and Harry caught sight of him nervously tugging on the cloak.  
  
When did you get this? Harry asked him in a whisper.  
  
Right after I managed to convince Father that you couldn't be allowed sole right to _all_ the cool toys. Future heirs to the big Death Eater throne' need to be able to conduct their wacky evil plans for the destruction of all that is sacred and good, after all. Malfoy didn't seem willing to discuss the matter further, and Harry decided not to press the subject - yet. He stopped, straining to hear voices that might lead them in the right direction.   
  
That way, he said at last, giving Malfoy's shoulder a slight shove in the right direction.  
  
After Harry lost his footing on a tree root and nearly knocked himself out on a low-hanging branch, they decided that maybe using the cloak wasn't the best plan at the moment. Not like anyone's going to see us out here, Potter, Draco pointed out. This isn't exactly a spot people try to frequent. He started to illuminate the end of his wand, but Harry quickly snatched it away.  
  
Are you completely mad? he asked in a furious whisper.   
  
No, but I'd just as soon not give an encore performance of the dance move you just demonstrated! Malfoy snarled. The recognizable sneer in Malfoy's voice was almost comforting in its familiarity. _No matter what situation we may find ourselves in, Malfoy and I can count on one sure thing: we will always loathe each other, _Harry thought. The concept was somehow reassuring.  
  
It's practically a full moon – we can use that light. Harry closed his eyes for a long moment, and focused his attention on listening for the sounds of his teachers. I think I hear them again.  
  
They made their way as quietly as possible in the direction of the faint noise Harry had picked up. The path became wilder, and now it was becoming nearly impossible to move without tripping over every other root. Draco showed Harry how to feel in front of him with one foot before taking his next step. Much experience with sneaking around at night, Malfoy? Harry whispered.  
  
Draco said nothing for a moment before he spoke. Let's just say it's best to walk through the gardens at my house with extreme caution, he said finally. As difficult was it was to see in the faint light, Harry saw the hard edge of Malfoy's jaw set in a rigid line. Obviously this was _not_ a topic that was open for discussion.  
  
The two boys finally reached something of a clearing, and the light of an enormous bonfire allowed them to make their way to a thick cluster of trees just outside the circle of light without being stumbling – or being noticed. As they peered around the thick trunk of a particularly old elm, Harry felt his jaw drop. He clasped a hand over Draco's mouth just as the other boy flinched and gasped in reaction to what he was seeing.  
  
_Giants._ A good fifteen enormous giants were seated around the fire, each at least twenty feet tall and a good ten feet wide. They were so large that their heads scraped the bottoms of the trees' limbs, even though they were sitting on the ground. Harry thought for a moment he heard the sounds of thunder, then realized it was actually the sounds of the giants talking quietly amongst themselves.  
  
Holy God, Draco muttered. It sounded vaguely like a prayer. No wonder McGonagall was upset.  
  
Harry could only nod in wonder. The giants were all feasting on what appeared to be the remains of several cows, and even now a number of pigs were roasting on spits nearby. Despite his shock at seeing the giants, Harry's stomach gave a particularly loud growl as the scent of roasted meat wafted temptingly through the air.  
  
Too busy gloating about your win over the Badgers to remember to eat, Potter? Malfoy whispered maliciously. Maybe if you're a good boy they'll invite you for dinner.  
  
Actually, I was just wondering if I could come up with a reasonable excuse for shoving you into the flames, Harry said. Think Snape would buy the excuse of justifiable homicide?  
  
Malfoy snorted, and then sucked in his breath as if he could take back the noise as a giant's head inclined in their direction. After a long and rather terrifying moment, the giant returned his attention to his meal.  
  
You know, this doesn't really have the air of a big dark secret meeting, Draco said slowly. I've seen dark secret meetings: this is positively amateurish. It's practically an insult to the institution of evil ideas. For one thing, the giants seem far more focused on cramming food in their mouths than they do on attacking Hogwarts. Secondly, if this were some dark magic mojo, wouldn't Moody have insisted on coming? Maybe Mc-I'm-the-Deputy-Head-Mistress-so-don't-mess-with-me was over-reacting?  
  
Harry frowned. You're right – this doesn't seem to be worth the whole fraught with danger at every turn' air that McGonagall was so wild about. And besides, if they were meeting with giants, wouldn't they have brought Hagrid along?  
  
As if in answer, the female in the center of the giants called out, And their Care of Magical Creatures teacher appeared, a familiar dark-haired woman at his side.  
  
Madame Maxime? Draco said wonderingly. What's she doing here? Why isn't she at her own school?  
  
Harry waved a hand to shut him up, as Hagrid shouted up at the female. Thanks fer comin'. We shoul' be getting' started here in jus' a bit – nee' to wait on the Priscus and the like.  
  
Harry could have sworn he saw the group of giants draw back at the word Priscus'. We stay, said the female, not sounding overly pleased, 'cause you asked it, Hagrid, not cause we want ter meet with the Priscus queen.  
  
Obviously the big to do is _not_ over meeting with the giants, Harry whispered. When he received no reply, he looked over at the Slytherin boy.   
  
Malfoy looked as though he might be ill. Um, Potter – I think I just realized who they'll be meeting with. And I really don't want to be here to watch-  
  
We heard abou' the Dementors, an' their abandonin' of Azkaban said a male giant sitting to the right of the giantess. An' the centaurs speak of almost nothin' else, cept a silly man who ignores the truth, e'en when it stares him righ' in the face. What does yer man Dumbledore ave to say on this, now?  
  
Dumbledore suspects that Voldemort is slowly calling his former allies back to him, said a voice Harry recognized as Velange's. Sure enough, his professor stepped to Hagrid's side, and called her answers up towards the treetops in an effort to make sure the giants gathered could hear her.   
That is to be expected. And to counter this, we have called for this meeting tonight. We appreciate your presence, and your patience. The Priscus should be here shortly-  
  
No need to wait, cousin. A voice just to the right of Harry made him jump in surprise. Coming out of the shadowy trees was a beautiful blonde woman with two dark haired men at her side. Behind her, Harry could see the outlines of more people who had obviously chosen not to enter the warmth of the firelight. _Why didn't we hear them coming?_ he wondered.  
  
The woman and her two companions drew closer to the fire, and although the path was covered with small twigs and leaves, their steps were noiseless. A low muttering passed through the group of giants as she passed by them. The blonde woman looked around the fire, obviously searching for a face. She looked somewhat troubled when she returned her attention to Velange. Dumbledore did not come? she asked quietly.  
  
No, madam, he did not. Snape's voice was audible before he came stepped into view beside Velange. He asked us to send you his most abject thanks for your attendance- The courtly words and tone were such a departure from Snape's usual manner that Harry had to give himself a sharp pinch to make sure this wasn't some sort of bizarre dream. Draco made an odd squeaking noise, and seemed to be making up his mind to flee. Harry distracted him with a sharp kick in the shins.  
  
No need to elaborate, warlock, the woman, who could only be the mysterious Marie Priscus said. Harry noticed her tone had grown dark. I had hoped that he might deign to come, but perhaps it is for the best. The dark man to Marie's right leaned forward and spoke in her ear. She looked up at him and nodded. she called. Another woman stepped in from the shadows, this time flanked by two cloaked figures whose hoods obscured their features.   
  
Snape stepped forward and took the woman's outstretched hand in his own. Madam Shuurajou – we are most honoured...  
  
Spare me the speeches, warlock. The woman's voice was like an icy blast of wind. Snape nodded and stepped back, releasing her hand as quickly as he had taken it. Even from this distance, Harry could see that Snape's sallow skin looked unusually pale. In fact, the man looked almost ill.  
  
Harry wasn't even sure if he was still breathing. These women were beautiful, but so pale they looked as though their skin was made of porcelain. They were as haunting to look at as the Veela had been at the World Cup, and yet something about them made his blood run cold. Something about the way they moved - as silently as the ghosts in the castlesuddenly he realized exactly what he was watching, and looked frantically at Malfoy, who only nodded silently, confirming Harry's suspicions.  
  
_Vampires_. The word seemed to be having difficulty in reaching his brain. McGonagall hadn't been upset over Snape holding a meeting with giants – she had been upset over a meeting with vampires. Harry couldn't blame her. Had Snape finally taken leave of his senses?   
  
He reached out and gave Malfoy a sharp poke in the side. The gesture seemed to wake the Slytherin out of his reverie as he turned to glare at Harry. I am _so_ going to kill you for getting us into this situation, Potter, he whispered fiercely. Bad enough we're standing less than 20 feet away from giants, but now there's vampires in the mix? Hell, if we're _really lucky,_ maybe a manticore convention will start in the next clearing. Malfoy turned to look again at the bizarre scene unfolding in front of them. What the hell kind of sick death wish do you have, anyway?  
  
Shut. Up. Harry glared at him, and took a step nearer to the fire so he could hear the proceedings better. Malfoy grabbed at the back of his cloak.  
  
You want to get _closer? _What, you're afraid they might accidentally miss out on their opportunity to either stomp us flat, or suck us dry?__ Malfoy's silver eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he stared at Harry. Typical Gryffindor plan: well, we're sure as hell not going to get killed staying back here. I know, let's get closer!'  
  
Harry shook him off. I want to hear what they're saying. Seeing Draco blanch, he shrugged. Have it your way, Malfoy. Stay back here on the edge of the woods. Maybe you'll get lucky and some nice _werewolves_ will show up next. He continued on his way silently, and bit back a smile as he heard Draco follow. _More than one way to skin a cat. Or a snake.  
  
_They made their way some 25 feet closer to the fire, stopping to hide behind two oaks that were wide enough to camouflage their appearance but didn't prevent them from seeing more clearly what was happening within the firelight. You're right – all this sneaking around does seem more like a Slytherin plan, Harry mused softly. They must have done something to the pumpkin juice at breakfast. Dear God, I've started channeling your house, Malfoy! Quick, put me out of my misery!  
  
Draco glared at him. Hope you're still laughing when that Priscus comes and rips your throat out, Potter. Or have you forgotten the number one rule when it comes to dealing with vampires: don't?  
  
I think we can get started, Velange said. Both boys returned their attention to the group beside the fire. Fridwulfa Gwomater, members of the Gwomater band, Marie Priscus, members of the Priscus clan, Malaikat Shuurajou, and members of the Shuurajou clan – welcome. We thank you for coming and meeting with us. The point of our coming together is to discuss the truth of what is happening, and to dispel any rumors. And to ask for your help.  
  
It is no secret that there are centuries of mistrust and suspicion between our worlds. I must ask you to set those centuries of prejudice aside so that we might work on dispelling our common enemy – Lord Voldemort.  
  
A low mutter rumbled from among the giants, and Harry heard the vampires outside of the firelight hiss Voldemort's name amongst themselves. It was like listening to a snake hiss just before it attacked, and the skin on the back of his neck crawled uncomfortably.   
  
Voldemort has done nothing to warrant my Clan's support of his destruction, Malaikat Shuurajou said in a bored tone, whereas the wizard world continues to simultaneously ignore and abuse my Clan. While her voice held no hint of malice, the sound chilled Harry to the bone, although he couldn't explain exactly why. The hunting of our kind has increased – why should we support those who wish us dead?  
  
Voldemort can only bring further violence to our world, Malaikat. His followers are worse than the most violent of mortals we have known – they hunt and destroy their own kind for their own pleasure, and once they have regained power within the wizard world, they _will_ turn their attentions elsewhere. Marie Priscus said sharply. We shall hear what our cousin has to say before we make our decision. She nodded at Velange.   
  
Why does she keep calling Velange Harry wondered aloud.   
Velange doesn't look as though she's part vampire, does she?  
  
I don't know, Malfoy said slowly. The only creature I can think of that a vampire might call cousin' is a Veela, and I know she's not part Veela. Feeling Harry's eyes on him, he shrugged. I know part Veelasshe's not one. Let's just leave it at that.  
  
Harry frowned, and returned his attention to the group by the fire. Velange was speaking again. Voldemort is seeking to renew old alliances among those the wizarding world has in the past shunned or persecuted. Nothing we say tonight will erase the past. But what we do tonight _can_ help assure that such prejudices will not be tolerated in the future. All gathered here tonight have lost ones they cared for in the last war against the Death Eaters. How many deaths can we prevent by banding together against the evil that seeks to destroy the world we have created, as well as everything we hold dear? Velange's voice broke at the end of her speech, and Snape placed his hand over hers. Harry had to fight not to look away. He was sure that Velange was not his godmother, but the sight of her with Snape made him uncomfortable all the same.  
  
Lauren stepped forward then, and her calm, clear voice rang through the clearing. You may shrug now and say that Voldemort has done nothing to warrant that you will throw your support behind Albus Dumbledore and his followers. But I ask you to stop and consider now what Albus Dumbledore has done that would cause you to support Voldemort? More muttering from the giants, while the vampires waited quietly, apparently waiting on the reactions from their respective queens. Harry shot a glance at the Shuurajou. The two figures next to her had pushed back their hoods, and in their place Harry saw two more extraordinarily lovely and frighteningly pale creatures. He ducked behind the tree again as one of them looked straight in his direction.   
  
Dumbledore promised us before tha' he would try an' change the attitude of the Ministry bout us, one giant said, in a voice so deep that it seemed to make the trees shake with its resonance. Nothin's yet come of tha'.  
  
Not cause of Dumbledore, Fyre, said the female, who Harry suspected was Fridwulfa – and therefore Hagrid's mother. Her attitude reminded him strongly of Hagrid, and he looked around the tree to see where his friend was standing. Hagrid was beaming up at his mother, and speaking under his breath to Madame Maxime. That's cause of that fool Fudge. He's denyin' Voldemort's come back, even now wit' the Dementors gone. She snorted. It reminded Harry of the Hungarian Horntail he had faced last year. When Fridwulfa spoke, it seemed that the even the trees were afraid to interrupt her; the light wind that blew through the night stopped as she spoke. Harry had never heard anything that was at the same time so alarmingly loud and yet so frighteningly quiet.  
  
And why did the Dementors abandon Azkaban? Malaikat asked sharply.   
Because Voldemort promised them a place as equals, and not as guards over those the mortals are too cowardly to destroy! Their own worst enemies, and they are too weak to rid the earth of them. I'm sorry, Earth Mother, here she looked up at Fridwulfa, but I fail to see why we should support these humans when they are unable to control their own. This is of no concern to us.  
  
That's th' kind of arrogance tha' near got my kind destroyed! Fridwulfa thundered in reply. You'd do well, vampire, to listen to yer kin. Voldemort's not goin' to wan' you to stand idly by. He's goin' to make you chose a side, and his side's the side of evil. I don't want no more of my tribe dyin', just cause we chose to back the wron' side. And Dumbledore's the mos' hon'rable wizard I ever did meet. If he says he'll protect us, I believe him. If he says tha' Voldemort cannot win, I believe that too.  
  
Malaikat looked unimpressed by Fridwulfa's argument. I have yet to hear of a single account where Voldemort murdered our kind, she said softly. I believe it was the wizards who did the actual slaying, was it not?  
  
Only cause we fought along side tha' madman an' his evil devils! the giantess roared. My tribe lived a damned peaceful life, fore that bastard seduced us wit' his lies. And none o' his men never stepped in to help us when we was being slaughtered. I say we support him who ne'er lied to us, nor as he ever twisted the truth: Albus Dumbledore!  
  
Many of the giants present pounded their fists and thundered their support of Fridwulfa. Harry looked around, noting how a few of the giants sat silently watching, while the Shuurajou clan head looked sulky. This doesn't look too good, he said in a low voice to Draco. What if the vampires chose to back Voldemort, and the giants back Dumbledore?  
  
Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll just destroy each other and spare us the bother? Malfoy whispered back. Both boys fell silent again as the Priscus queen stepped forward.  
  
Marie Priscus held up a hand for silence. Those who know me know of my trust in Albus Dumbledore. He has never yet gone back on a single promise he has ever made, to myself or to my Clan.  
  
You give a blind eye to the wizarding world's fallacies, Marie, in your childlike trust of that ancient spell caster. Malaikat said sneeringly. I will remember this day when your Clan lies broken and destroyed because of that faith – faith in a man whose kind seeks to destroy us on a daily basis. And I shall remember how he played you for a fool. One of Marie's men made an angry noise and started towards the Shuurajou Queen, but Marie held up a hand.  
  
Hold, Adam. Malaikat is entitled to her opinion. That is why she was invited tonight – to make up her own mind, in her own right. Marie looked sadly at Lauren. I cannot dictate the actions of my fellow Clan heads, cousin, but tell Dumbledore that you have made your case. The Priscus will support you in your fight against the evil that is Voldemort and his sycophants. The giants gave another rumble of support, and Harry couldn't help but grin.  
  
Never thought I'd see the day when I was happy about having giants and vampires on our side, he said to Malfoy.  
  
Some of the vampires, Malfoy corrected quietly, his expression completely absent of its usual sneer. The Priscus are only one of the six leading Clans in Europe. Of the two clans most likely to support Dumbledore, we've already lost one – the Shuurajou were our second most obvious ally in their Council. He looked to where Malaikat Shuurajou was speaking in low tones to her clanswomen. I'd say we lost that vote of support tonight.  
  
Malaikat suddenly spoke, and her voice was angry. You speak of trust and support. Yet my kinswomen tell me you have spies just outside this place, listening to every word we say. Is this the trust of which you speak? She suddenly pointed a finger in Harry and Draco's direction, and the two boys froze as the full implication of the vampiress's statement hit them.   
  
Harry yelled, no longer bothering to keep his voice down. He tore off into the dark woods. Over the sound of his own frantically beating heart, he heard Draco swearing behind him as tree branches rebounded to hit him in the face. They hadn't made it but 50 feet when Harry came to a screeching stop, seeing the circle of yellow eyes that surrounded them.  
  
Oh, this is _not_ happening, Draco snapped before he whirled on Harry. My last moments on this earth are with _you_?  
  
Harry couldn't even summon up a glare in reply. They had run from a clan of vampires – straight into a group of wolves.  
  
The wolves lowered the heads, and Harry began backing away slowly, not wanting to set them off. A pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed at his shoulders, making him yell in surprise – and terror. He turned around and felt his blood grown cold, as he looked into the glowing eyes of a vampire.  
  
Foolish boy, the vampire spat. As he came closer Harry recognized him as one of the men who had escorted Marie Priscus to the meeting. He pushed Harry behind him and drew out a long silver sword. His partner appeared just behind Draco and mimicked his actions, while Draco appeared to be having some sort of heart attack. As the two vampires advanced on the pack of wolves, whose growls had begun to sound even more lethal sounding at the sight of the vampires, the first one yelled back at Harry, Are you so foolish as to _want_ to die, mortal? Run, damn you!  
  
Harry and Draco ran. Have I mentioned, Draco yelled at him between gasps, how much – I _hate_ you?  
  
Sod off - Malfoy! Harry gasped back at him. They saw four sets of giant feet moving towards them, and darted back in another direction. Can't you – come up with an original insult? Seeing as how – we're either going to be – eaten or well - _eaten?   
  
_Harry was now thoroughly disoriented. Were they close to woods that emptied out onto the Hogwarts grounds? Or were they heading back towards the fire – and the giants? Running deeper into the forest – and back to the wolves? He couldn't be sure. A sudden flash of red light behind them, and a women's voice shouting _Petrificus Totalus_ ended his hysterical thoughts. As his body froze completely, he toppled over into a pile of dried leaves. He looked up to see Lauren and Lena Velange looming over him and Harry couldn't help wondering:  
  
Was he better off with the Velange sisters and Snape, or the vampires?  
  


***  
  


Foolish child, said a female voice just outside the line of Harry's vision. He nearly caused his final death with his own stupidity.  
  
I couldn't have put it better myself, Madam Priscus. Snape's voice was all too recognizable. Harry tried desperately to close his eyes, but despite his best efforts he was unable to move. _Wonderful,_ he thought irritably._ I'm going to die unable to move, while vampires and giants throw a giant bonfire party – with Malfoy a mere 5 feet away, and Snape gloating above my head. Does life get worse than this?  
  
_He should have known better. Professor Velange was standing over him, looking eerily like Professor McGonagall might have looked in the same situation – provided she'd eaten nails for dinner. 50 points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter! she snapped. And from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy – for your serious lack of both judgment and brains. What on earth were you thinking?  
  
Mr. Potter? he recognized the voice of the Shuurajou queen. Sure enough, she stepped into the line of his vision, a beautiful vision with long dark hair and almond eyes. She would have been the creature of dreams, had it not been for the stark white of her skin and her voice, which reminded Harry of broken glass. Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over. Do you mean to tell me that _this_ is the infamous child of Lily and James Potter?  
  
croaked Hagrid. He looked more upset than Harry could ever remember him being, including when they took away his pet dragon, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback Hagrid had dubbed Norbert. Yeh shouldn't be here! Ye're goin' to get in such trouble! And with Malfoy, no less!  
  
Harry would have dearly loved to point out to Hagrid that trouble really didn't come much worse than being completely unable to move, while surrounded by giants and vampires, as your least favourite teacher composed your letter of expulsion. Unfortunately, Lauren's hex made this impossible.  
  
End the spell, Marie Priscus commanded. Harry didn't know whether to feel thankful or alarmed when Lauren Velange acquiesced without argument. He sat up, trying not to give in to the temptation to back away from the two vampiresses who were watching him intently.  
  
Harry Potter, Marie Priscus tilted her head and looked back at her guard. Adam says you are to be commended for managing to run right from our meeting into a pack of wolves. I believe his exact words were, I've never seen a mortal child more determined to get himself killed.' A bit of bravery that one rarely sees in a man so young. The ghost of a smile crossed her features. Why are you here?  
  
Overheard Professor McGonagall, Harry muttered.  
  
That tells us how you came to know where we were, not why you came, Velange began, but the Priscus queen interrupted her.  
  
A moment, cousin. Marie looked over at Draco then, and something in her face was terrible to behold. I recognize the Malfoy child as well. What I fail to understand is how the Boy Who Lived came to be running about these woods with any child sired by Lucius Malfoy's loins.   
  
Harry wasn't sure how to answer this. Fortunately, Velange didn't allow him long to think on it. My apologies, Madam Priscus, but these boys must return to the castle immediately, his teacher said swiftly. She shifted her glance to where Malfoy still lay, his wide eyes looking positively frantic now at the thought of so much attention at the hands of the two vampire queens. Come along now, Potter, Malfoy. Velange pointed her wand at Draco and muttered, _Finite Incantatem! _ She barely paused as she bent to help Malfoy to his feet before she began shooing back up towards the castle.   
  
Harry though he saw a look of sympathy cross Lauren Velange's face as they silently passed the group and back into the trees in the direction of Hogwarts. Hagrid and Madam Maxime had returned to Fridwulfa's side, and were attempting to talk in low voices with her tribe. Harry didn't exactly have to strain to hear Fridwulfa's words, Lil' Harry Potter? Here? But why, Hagrid? Snape, he'd noticed, had looked distinctly less than pleased. In fact, he'd looked capable of force-feeding poison to fairies. And Velange - well, Harry though McGonagall could have learned a thing or two from his Current Events teacher on making a student feel less than an inch tall.  
  
As soon as they were safely out of the forest, Velange whirled about to face to the two of them. It was too dark to see her features, but her voice left little doubt as to exactly how furious she was.  
  
I have never been angrier with two people in my entire life, she began, her usually warm voice now like an icy blast of wind that made Harry shiverit reminded him far too much of how Malaikat Shuurajou had sounded. First you flout school rules by leaving the castle – an event I do _not _look forward to explaining to Mr. Filch and Professor McGonagall – then you head straight for the Forbidden Forest, which is also restricted to the entire student body. Explain yourselves, both of you!  
  
You see, what we- Harry winced as Draco tread directly on his foot, cutting off his explanation.  
  
I promise, we _will_ give you a full explanation, Professor, but would it be possible to get up to the castle first? I think I may have twisted my ankle running. Draco sounded far too innocent, as though he were merely asking to visit Madam Pomfrey's office after tripping on the grounds, rather then attempting to explain why he had been running through the Forbidden Forest while eavesdropping on a meeting between wizards, giants and vampires.  
  
An accident you brought on yourself, Mr. Malfoy, with your thoughtless and ill-conceived behavior. Velange sighed and then said, Do you need me to conjure a stretcher, or can you make it that far?  
  
No, I think I can make it, Draco said, his voice full of martyr-like resignation.  
  
Very well. There was no more conversation as Velange led them through the grounds and up the steps, back into the main hall. Harry had started to feel remotely hopeful – perhaps Velange wouldn't be too harsh on them – when Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the corridor.  
  
Potter! Malfoy! What on earth?  
  
It's all right, Minerva. Mr. Malfoy has twisted his ankle, and I think he needs to get up to the infirmary as quickly as possible, Velange said soothingly.  
  
McGonagall looked anything but appeased. And just where exactly _were_ Misters Potter and Malfoy when Malfoy twisted his ankle? she asked imperiously.  
  
There was an uneasy silence. Harry had never seen Professor McGonagall look more outraged – and he was sure he'd seen her angry far more than most of the students in school. _Professor_ Velange? McGonagall said sharply.  
  
Velange's expression was completely devoid of emotion. They have already had 50 points taken from each of their houses, Minerva. I see no need to drag this out further.   
  
Harry could have told her that this was _not_ the right tactic to use against his head of House. Oh you don't, do you? McGonagall all but spat at Velange. I believe I am Deputy Headmistress here, Professor Velange – not you. And I believe I am head of Mr. Potter's house, and as such he is my responsibility -_ not yours._ Harry watched as Velange paled under the fury of Professor McGonagall's gaze. Now, if you will see to Mr. Malfoy – I trust you can ensure that he reaches the hospital wing without further incident. She didn't wait for Velange to answer. Potter, come with me.  
  
Draco smirked as Professor McGonagall forcibly dragged Harry away. It took him a few minutes to realize that they were heading in the direction of her office. He was understandably distracted, as McGonagall began her lecture the second her feet had begun moving.  
  
I doubt you've much interest in hearing that the entire castle has been uprooted in an attempt to find both you and Mr. Malfoy! Miss Weasley was beside herself when she found out that we couldn't locate you-  
  
_Ginny._ Harry thought to himself miserably, tuning out McGonagall's continued harangue. She was likely never to speak to him again – a quick look at his wrist told him it was nearly 11 o'clock – long past the time he'd promised to meet her.  
  
I don't know when I've been more disappointed in a Gryffindor prefect! You should know better; you're supposed to be setting an example and instead you're gallivanting around the countryside- McGonagall was still going. Harry was too lost in his own gloomy thoughts to hear a word of it; so focused on what was likely to happen to him that he didn't notice Professor McGonagall had stopped until he walked straight into her. Do watch where you're going, Potter!  
  
Sorry, Professor, Harry said quickly, as he looked about. As well as he knew the castle after four and a half years of living there, this particular door was unfamiliar. Erm, where are we? he asked.  
  
McGonagall threw his a disdainful look. So now I can add not paying attention' to your list of foibles? I told you, Potter – you have a visitor. Professor Dumbledore insisted that you meet with him here. She tapped her wand against the ancient looking oak door and said __ which was clearly a password. As the door creaked open and Harry began inside the room, she laid a firm hand on his shoulder. I am only going to say this once, Potter, so I do hope you're listening. For you to trample on the rules is bad enough - for you to do so as prefect is almost an insult to the House and the school - but for you to push aside regulations that have been set up for your protection and the protection of those who live here is an outrage. Don't step off on your own again, or you'll be losing far more than a mere fifty points for Gryffindor.  
  
Her meaning was all too clear. _Expulsion. _Harry nodded, then trudged inside the dark room. Within seconds, something heavy and hairy had knocked him flat on his back. Harry blinked, as he recognized the enthusiastic snuffling.  
  
he asked incredulously. What are _you_ doing here?  
  


***  
  


A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:  
  
Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑhä, Erinyes, Johnny V, holly, tima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm, sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDemented, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, Starlite, baby norbert, Alyssa Potter, Majorca, Ennacie, H. Sanders, Lidder Deed, Lolli Potter, Green Eyed Knight, Kranberries, Curry Spice, chibbleworthy, gilaesther and the prodigious Unregistered.   
  
I KNOW, I KNOW – You want to know who the Siren is. Ok, I'll make you a deal: next chapter we found out exactly WHO Harry's godmother is. (I promise)  
Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!  
  



	16. Siren's Song Chapter 16

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song  
  
Author: jords  
  
Category: Drama/Romance  
  
Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations  
  
Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)  
  
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated than just growing older.  
  
Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena   
(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)  
  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.   
  
Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral , Elliott, J.A.A. and Becky - my eternal thanks and praise.  
  


***  


After a few seconds, Sirius bounded off Harry's chest and resumed his normal form. Even in the semi-darkness, Harry could tell his godfather was less than pleased with him. he started, I was out of my mind when McGonagall said you couldn't be located in the castle. And when Moody said where he thought you were Sirius broke off, and after a pause he said in a shaking voice, What on earth were you _thinking? _Out in the forest at night, spying on a meeting with giants and vampires?  
  
But Sirius-  
  
Harry, let me _finish!_ I realize that only your father should have the right to chastise you like this, but he's not here! The words hung heavily in the air between them, and Harry couldn't think of anything to say. I don't want to know why, and I don't want to know what you were thinking. All I care about is that you're safe. A bleak smile crossed Sirius's face. Because now I can stop worrying about you, and focus on how angry I am with you.  
  
Harry nodded, unable to speak. Sirius came up beside him. You had us all pretty shaken up, you know that? I doubt if Ginny Weasley will ever forgive you.  
  
Harry nodded again. Then he said the first question that popped into his head. Sirius, why are you here?  
  
Sirius said simply, holding up a bit of parchment. Harry peered at it, then recognized it as his letter to Remus Lupin.   
  
How did you get that? Harry asked, feeling a little shell-shocked.  
  
Remus sent it to me this morning, along with another letter. He felt I should be the one to tell you, Sirius said simply. Why didn't you just ask _me_ if you wanted to know something about Helena Velange and her sister?  
  
I saw how you looked when you saw her, Harry swallowed. I didn't want to upset you.  
  
Right, because I wouldn't be at _all _upset if you snuck off into the Forest to spy on a meeting that involved giants and vampires. Sirius said dryly. I wish I knew what went through that head of yours sometimes. I know you're not used to turning to grown-ups for help, Harry – God knows you've received damned little of it when you needed it growing up – but that's the past. You know if you need help, you only have to ask-  
  
Do I? Harry shot back. His hands were shaking with sudden anger. You know what I see, Sirius? I see myself surrounded by people determined to keep the truth from me. I never knew I had a godmother until you told me. Don't you think that's something I should have known? I see the adults in my life determined to keep me from knowing exactly _why _Voldemort destroyed my family. When you are older, when you ready.' Well, I want to know – I need to know. Now.  
  
Sirius looked shaken, as though stunned by this sudden show of temper. I can't tell you that, Harry. Only Dumbledore can really explain-  
  
Fine – then at the very least you owe me the truth about my godmother. Harry crossed his arms. I need to know, and I know you know the truth. Seeing Sirius waver, he said in a croaky voice, _Please, _Sirius. I need to know.  
  
Sirius sighed. Very well. He sat in a chair behind a huge oak desk and indicated for Harry to sit as well. It's a very long story, Harry but I can sum it up for you in five words – Helena Velange is your godmother.  
  
Professor Velange – is my godmother? Harry repeated, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him. _Hermione was right._ He wasn't sure why, but the thought bothered him. Why didn't anyone tell me?  
  
I supposed Dumbledore thought it best for you to get to know her first, but you'll have to ask him about that. Sirius looked down at his hands, obviously uncomfortable with the very idea of questioning Dumbledore's judgment. You were right when you said I was upset when I saw her. I haven't seen Lena for 15 years – except in my mind. Sirius stood again, and crossed the room where he stopped to look out the window and onto the dark grounds. Not since the night when she left.  
  
_She _left, Harry repeated faintly. But I thought you left her, when you went to Azkaban- Harry stopped when he noticed that Sirius didn't appear to be listening.   
  
I didn't even know that she was alive, that she was herself-Sirius stopped mid-thought and ran a trembling hand through his dark hair. But that's another story, for another day. What you need to know now is that Lena is here to protect you, just as I am here to protect you. Nothing else matters to me, Harry, except your safety. He turned to face his godson. I swore an oath to your father on the day that you were born that I would protect you at all costs. And while I've done a fairly shoddy job of it for most of your life, by God I won't break that promise now.  
  
But why didn't Velange – I mean Professor Velange- Harry felt as though the room was spinning slightly, tell me about this herself?  
  
I don't know, Harry. I don't know where she's been, or why she's returned. But Dumbledore gave me his word that she is here to protect you.  
  
Harry's temper was rising. Let me get this straight, he said slowly, Professor Velange is my godmother. You don't know where she's been, or what she's been doing, or even why she chose not to tell me who she was, and I'm supposed to blindly accept the fact that she's here to protect me. Because it's told to me by the same people who have kept the truth from me for five years?  
  
Harry, you have to listen to me! Sirius pleaded. I'm not explaining this well at all-  
  
No, you listen to me! Harry snapped. I spent 10 years being told I had no other family, and being raised in a _cupboard _by people who would rather see me in an institution for incurably criminal boys then in their precious household. Of course the Dursleys lied to me; but for people I love and trust to do the same? You'll forgive me if I don't warm up immediately to the idea that there was someone out there who promised my parents they'd be there for me in the event something happened to themsomeone who didn't bother to try and find me, or get me out of that house! Harry was angrier then he had ever been. Don't worry, Sirius – I'm not angry at you. You have the excuse of Azkaban – what excuse does _she _have? He stood, and shot his godfather a look of disgust. All someone has to explain to me now is why she is cozying up to Snape – or is that something else I'm not old enough to hear? With that he all but ran from the room, leaving a defeated and shaken Sirius behind him.  
  


***  
  


Ginny exclaimed from her seat by the fire. She practically ran to him, and threw her arms around his neck. We've been so worried!  
  
Harry kissed the top of her hair, and looked to where Ron and Hermione were staring at him as though he were a ghost. I'm ok, you know.  
  
Hermione said, struggling to her feet, and dumping books helter-skelter onto the floor. A few seconds later he felt her arms around him, as Ron watched without comment. Where on earth have you been? McGonagall practically turned the tower _inside_ _out, _ looking for you!  
  
In the Forest, he said simply.  
  
Why on earth were you in the forest? Ron asked, his brow furrowed.  
  
Followed Velange and Snape. He lowered his voice and told them about the meeting he had witnessed.  
  
You actually saw Snape and Velange meeting with _vampires?_ Hermione squeaked.  
  
Sod that, you saw _giants???_ Ron added. What were they like?he asked, looking excited.  
  
There's more, Harry said, while Ginny clung to him. I know who my godmother is – it's Velange.  
  
_Professor Velange?_ Ron asked, looking incredulous. Ginny looked up at him, startled. Hermione, he noticed, didn't say a word.   
  
he asked, watching her step back and bit her lip. What is it?  
  
I've been keeping this from you, Harrybut now you know. She took a deep breath and said in a rush, I've known that Lena was your godmother for weeks, since just after Halloween.  
  
Harry asked, startled. How did you know?  
  
I asked her, Hermione said, while Ron goggled at her.  
  
You knew? Harry asked, his temper rising again. You knew all this time and you didn't say anything?  
  
Why, Hermione? Ginny asked, looking as stunned as Harry felt.  
  
She begged me not to tell you, Hermione said calmly. And since I knew this was how you would react- she had barely gotten the words out before Harry's temper got the better of him.  
  
You're supposed to be my friend! he bellowed at her. You're supposed to be helping me find her, and then you tell me something like this? Ron jumped in front of Hermione, and shot Harry a warning look.  
  
I'm sure she did what she thought was best, Ron said in a cold voice, before he turned to look at Hermione. But you could have told him, you know.  
  
Hermione straightened her shoulders, and met Ron's challenging glare. I think Harry's proved that Velange was right in making sure he didn't know – she seemed to think he would jump to conclusions-  
  
Of course she's going to say that! Harry practically spat at her. She left me to bloody rot at the Dursleys. Hell, if it weren't for Dumbledore's determination to get me to Hogwarts, I'd probably still be there, assuming I didn't give in to temptation and sodding blow them all up for being the incredible gits that they were! You're supposed to be one of my best friends, Hermione – how could you keep something like this from me?   
  
He looked down into Ginny's eyes, and something there made him let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She was looking at him the same way he had seen Snape looking at Velange that night in the forest, and he couldn't bear to yell like this in front on her. Never mind, it doesn't matter, he muttered. Just do me a favor, will you? And leave me alone? I just can't even look at you at the moment. Tomorrow – we'll talk.  
  
Hermione nodded, and after shooting a frightened glance at Ron, headed up the stairs towards the girls' dorms. Ron started after her, before he stopped and turned to say, Hermione loves you, Harry – you know she wouldn't have done this unless she felt it was the right thing to do. Ron's wide blue eyes were very vivid in his pale face as he faced his best friend.  
  
Harry said sarcastically. She lied to me because she _loves _me. Because she wants to protect me. Just like Dumbledore lied to me, like Velange lied to me. I'm just surrounded by people who want to protect me. Well guess what? All this protection didn't keep me from being hungry and ignored for ten years. It didn't keep me from spending my entire childhood wondering if anyone might care about me. And it sure as hell didn't keep me safe from Voldemort, so I've just about had it with people trying to protect me!  
  
Ron didn't look away from Harry's furious glaze as he said in a croaky voice, That's irrelevant at the moment, Harry. The history I remember is that Hermione and I both went with you down the trap door, and I was with you in the Chamber of Secrets, and Hermione was with you when you went back in time to save Sirius. And we did it to protect _you._ Do you have idea how hard it is being friends with you sometimes? How many times Hermione and I have wondered if we'd ever see you again? So you'll forgive me if I don't think much of your ingratitude! Sorry, Harry – I need to go check on Hermione – you know, your _other_ best friend who loves you. With that, Ron whirled off up the stairs.  
  
Harry goggled after him, before he turned to Ginny. I guess I had that coming, didn't I? he mumbled.  
  
That's one way of looking at it, she said, her usual bright smile completely absent from her face. The other way of looking at it is that you need to quit taking things out on the people who love you. I'm sorry that your godmother wasn't completely truthful with you, Harry, but has it occurred to you that she might have had her reasons? Not the least of which was the fact that just as Sirius was locked in Azkaban, she was locked in St. Mungo's? Ginny's cheeks were a brilliant pink now. And I'm still waiting to hear how exactly that excuses you for your behavior tonight! God, do you have any idea how worried I was? How worried we all were? Ginny's voice had begun to raise in volume, and her hands were shaking. I don't know when I've ever seen Dumbledore more troubled. But did you think of that? No, you were too busy trying to find out things that maybe you're not ready to know, that people who love you might just have kept from you for a damned good reason! She took a step towards him, and grabbed his hand fiercely in her own. I know you're angry, Harry, but that does _not _excuse your treatment of Dumbledore, or Sirius, or Hermione. The unspoken words, _Or me, _hung heavily over the room. Her chin jutted out, and she nodded towards the stairs. I suggest you start redeeming yourself by apologizing to Hermione. _Now.  
  
_Harry blinked, then automatically turned towards the stairs. Just before he went up towards the girl's dorms, he said She _should_ have told me, Ginny.  
  
I'm not arguing that, Ginny said smoothly. But that doesn't give you the right to treat her like that. She turned back towards the fire, and Harry could see her set her slight shoulders, as if steeling herself for an attack.   
  
he said after a long moment, before he practically ran up the stairs.  
  
Ron was standing outside the door to Hermione's room. His arms were folded across his chest, and his blue eyes looked positively frosty as he watched Harry hurry towards him. Come to shovel some more guilt on her? he asked, his voice colder than Harry could ever remember. Did you manage to think of some more hurtful words to throw in her face?  
  
No. I came to apologize, Harry said weakly, cringing inwardly at the venom in Ron's voice.  
  
Yeah. Well, you should, Ron said, before he swung open the door. Harry saw Hermione's golden-brown curls shining in the candlelight, spread out over her arms where she was curled up on her bed.  
  
Harry asked. She didn't move, or speak, or acknowledge his presence in any way.   
  
Harry turned to Ron. Where are Lavender and Parvati?  
  
Ron snorted. Out. With Seamus and Dean, he answered. His meaning was all too obvious. However, Harry was intensely grateful to his housemates for their late-night snog session. It would be hard enough to apologize, but doing it in front of an audience would have been next to impossible.   
  
Could you give us a minute? Harry asked. Seeing Ron's expression, he sighed. I just want to tell her I'm sorry. You're next, mate – but I kind of need to be alone when I do this.  
  
Ron nodded then a grin crossed his face. You don't have to, you know. I figured after last year, at least we're kind of even now.  
  
No, I _need _ to do this, Harry said firmly. You were right, you know. You've always been there whenever I needed you, and then I took everything out on Hermione and you. He swallowed, and said, I'm sorry, Ron.  
  
Don't mention it. It was kind of refreshing, watching you make a total prat of yourself. You know, The Boy who Lived was the Boy who was Human. Ron scuffed his feet on the floor, and Harry grinned at him.  
  
Now what? I planned on hugging Hermione, but it's, you know, _you.  
  
_Yeah, I know. Ron frowned for a moment, then clapped Harry on the shoulder. There, that ought to about cover it.  
  
Harry said, returning the gesture. Now, would you mind getting out of here for a few minutes?  
  
Will do, Ron said. He gave Hermione a final look, then left, closing the door behind him.  
  
Harry moved over to the bed, sitting down a few inches from Hermione's feet. You know, it's kind of anticlimactic, apologizing to you after you've already heard about it.  
  
Hermione didn't answer; she just buried her face in her pillow. Come on, Hermione, Harry wheedled. I was completely out of line. I was beyond a prat, I don't deserve to have you warn me about an oncoming basilisk. She didn't move. Harry tried again, and was surprised to hear himself choking up. Hermione, I am _so sorry._ All I can say is, I just kind of snapped when I heard you say that you'd known about Velange for weeks. Why did you know, when I didn't know? She's _my _godmother, and I didn't even know whom she was.  
  
Hermione sat up. That's still no excuse, Harry- she began hotly.  
  
I know, I was wrong. I'm sorry, he said softly. You didn't deserve that – no one deserved that.  
  
A slight smile crossed her face. Ok, so long as we're clear. You were wrong.  
  
Harry said with a sigh, I was wrong. But Hermione, he paused, why didn't you tell me? And what made you go and ask her?  
  
Hermione pushed her hair back from her face, and looked at him closely. Are you really sure you want to hear this from me, Harry? Shouldn't you hear this from Lena? It took him a second to realize that she was referring to Velange. Harry reached over, and took her hands in his.  
  
You're one of my best friends, Hermione – there's no one else I would _rather_ hear this from. Harry was only slightly startled to realize that he meant this – every word of it.  
  
All right, Hermione said, and hugged her pillow to her chest. Her expression was very grave as she took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for what was to come. It's kind of complicated, actually  
  


***  
  


A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot:  
Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑhä, Erinyes, Johnny V, holly, tima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm, sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDemented, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, Starlite, baby norbert, Alyssa Potter, Majorca, Ennacie, H. Sanders, Lidder Deed, Lolli Potter, Green Eyed Knight, Kranberries, Curry Spice, chibbleworthy, gilaesther, Aimee Brueker, nightdweller-pr, CiA, Veritaserum, laney, BeachHottie707, littlemissvoldemort, Christy, Cesta Teristen, mystic Guardian and the prodigious Unregistered. I kept my part of the deal – we know who Harry's godmother is: please review to let me know what you think.  
  
Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!  
  



	17. Siren's Song Chapter 17

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested. 

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. 

I need to thank my betas: kestral, Elliott, Bex, J.A.A. and Elizabeth Culmer. Without them, this story would without question be a waste of your bandwidth. 

***

__

Hermione pushed her hair back from her face, and looked at him closely. "Are you really sure you want to hear this from me, Harry? Shouldn't you hear this from Lena?" It took him a second to realize that she was referring to Velange. Harry reached over, and took her hands in his.

"You're one of my best friends, Hermione – there's no one else I would rather hear this from." Harry was only slightly startled to realize that he meant this – every word of it.

"All right," Hermione said, and hugged her pillow to her chest. Her expression was very grave as she took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for what was to come. "It's kind of complicated, actually" 

***

"Remember when Ron told you we saw Snape comforting Velange, just outside the Infirmary on Halloween night? I overheard them talking when we passed them on our way to the kitchens. Ron was talking to Ginny, so they missed it but I heard Snape say You have to tell him, Lena – you can't keep punishing yourself because you can't protect him from everything. The boy may be many things, but he's not completely stupid – he's going to figure it out soon enough.' And I heard Velange say, How, Severus? How can I ever explain what I did? Or more importantly, what I didn't do? Where I was? Why I wasn't there? He'll never forgive me." And then I heard Snape tell her You've never forgiven yourself, so you would naturally remove the possibility of any such action from him. But we are not talking about an ordinary boy.' And something just _clicked."_

Harry frowned. _"That_ was it? _That_ was the big aha!' moment?" 

"Not exactly," Hermione answered him wearily. "That was the hey, someone's playing naughts and crosses with the truth" moment. The big aha!' never really happenedit was more of a well, isn't that _convenient' _moment."

"I'm confused," Harry began, but Hermione cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand.

"Then just _listen,_ all right? After Ginny found that article about Velange and her family, it all made sense. Who else _could_ she be but your godmother? But you and Ron were so dead-set against the idea that I decided to wait and be sure before I told you." Harry suddenly remembered how defensive Hermione had become over the idea that Velange was a Death Eater. "So, I went to her office that night to ask her if she was your godmother."

"Right," Harry said sarcastically. "You just knocked on her door, strolled in, and asked if she was my ruddy godmother."

"No, I knocked on her door, and asked if she was the same Helena Velange that I had read about in the Daily Prophet, the Helena Velange who had been committed after her adopted father Augustus Rookwood had been found guilty of Death Eater activity." Hermione said, looking him straight in the eye. Her voice was unwavering, and Harry found himself picturing the scene in his mind. It sounded like something Hermione would do

"And?" Harry asked, both dreading and longing to hear the answer.

"Snape interrupted us," she said, a dark look on her face. "She had just invited me in, when he knocked on the door and asked if she was ready to go, that the tribes were waiting, and it was probably best not to make them wait.' And then he saw me, and asked me what I thought I was doing, harassing a teacher after hours. I believe his exact words were What, Miss Granger, come to beg for extra credit to make sure no other student has a chance at Head Girl?'" Hermione make a disparaging noise under her breath. "Pompous bastard."

"Hermione, is there any way that you could get to the point where Velange told you she was my godmother _before_ I start seventh year?" Harry asked, his patience wearing thin at this point.

"You know, this would go much faster without the constant stream of doubting Thomas questions," Hermione snapped.

"Yeah, well, you have to admit it's a bit odd - Hermione Granger, model student, confronting a professor and charging her with not only being my godmother but waving her dodgy past in her face"Harry raised both his eyebrows for emphasis. "Or have you been doubling up on course-work again?"

Hermione shot him an annoyed look, before she snatched her wand up off the bed and pointed it right at Harry. _"Confutare,"_ she said softly, and he discovered that no matter how much he tried, he was unable to make a sound. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you wanted to know." Harry just glared at her. 

Hermione pocketed her wand and then continued. "Anyway, Velange asked Snape to wait for her in the hall. After he left, she asked me to me her outside the teacher's lounge the next night at 8:30. I asked her why I should trust her. She gave me this," Hermione reached into the nightstand beside her bed and fished a leather-bound folder out of its depths. She opened it and handed its contents to Harry without further explanation.

It was a wizard photo. The three girls captured in the photo were smiling and waving up at him, and whispering in one another's ears. One he recognized straight away as his mother; her bright green eyes were all too easily identifiable. The other two girls in the photo also had red hair and green eyes that laughed up at him from nearly identical faces. It was Lauren and Lena Velange, he realized with a shock. The three girls had their arms locked around one another, and were quite clearly the closest of friends. In their identical Gryffindor uniforms, they looked like triplets, right down to their...Harry frowned. Around their necks hung the same pendant – three intertwined circles, held in place by a single blood-red stone. It was unlike any stone he had ever seen before, and for a long tense moment he found himself unable to look away from the unusual necklace glittering around his mother's neck.

He stared at the photo, and then back at Hermione. She looked at him, her face looking strained. "Now do you understand why I couldn't tell you?" she asked softly.

Harry opened his mouth to say "No" before he remembered her silencing spell. He rolled his eyes and gestured at his mouth. Hermione gasped softly, before waving her wand and saying _"Finite Incantatum." _She bit back a fit of giggles at the outraged look on his face. "Sorry, Harry – I didn't think you'd let me finish otherwise."

"I can't _believe _you did that," Harry glowered at her. He would have continued but at that moment, Harry was far more interested in hearing about what Velange had said than he was in the fact that his best friend had rendered him momentarily speechless. "What else did she tell you?"

"Well, I met with her, like she asked," Hermione began.

"NO, Hermione!" Harry said fiercely. "I don't want to know about _that_ – I want to know what she said! How did she explain it? How did she rationalize the fact that I had no idea she even existed until this summer?"

"Harry, you have to hear the whole story. Otherwise you'll never understand," Hermione said fervently. "It isn't as easy as you make it sound. She had her reasons, just as Sirius did."

"Sirius was in _Azkaban!_ Where the hell was she?"

"In St. Mungo's." Hermione said quietly. "Locked in her own mind. Then in America. Harry, please, this wasn't easy to listen to and it's even harder to tell you." She swallowed. "I know you're angry with her, Harry, and I know you feel betrayed but this is one of those times when you need to trust me."

"Trust you?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. The anger he had suppressed earlier came rushing back. "Hermione, you as good as _lied_ to me! You knew I was trying to find out who she was, knew I had been trying for weeks, and here you had the answer all along!"

"I promised Lena-" Hermione began hotly, but Harry cut her off.

"_Professor Velange _also made a promise to my parents, and I think it's all too obvious just how much that meant to her!" Harry practically hissed the name at her. "Honestly, Hermione, who's side are you on anyway?"

"This isn't about taking sides!" Hermione shot back. "I cannot believe you're acting this way, Harry. Of all people, I would think you would understand the importance of not jumping to conclusions! Look at Sirius – he couldn't be there for you no matter how much he wanted to! Lena has her reasons – and while she wasn't being held in a jail with Dementors, she was no less a prisoner." They were both on their feet now, and the sound of their raised voices brought Ron flying back into the room.

"What happened to making up?" he asked, looking from one angry red face to the other.

"She LIED to me!" Harry bellowed.

"He's being a stubborn, pig-headed GIT!" Hermione shouted at the same time.

Ron stared at Hermione for a long moment and then said quietly, "Uh, right. Well, let me know when you two decide to break into fisticuffs. Until then, you're on your own."

"Ronald Weasley! I can't believe you're taking his side-" Hermione began hotly, whirling around to face her boyfriend.

"'Mione, I believe you just said this wasn't about taking sides," Ron gingerly pointed out. "And anyway, you're both wrong. Admit it and make up already." With that, Ron closed the door again. A few seconds later, they faintly heard the sounds of his locking charm. 

Hermione ran a distracted hand through her hair. "Unbelievable," she muttered.

"Rather unlike him," Harry agreed. Then he frowned. "And when did he become so logical and even-tempered?"

__

"About the same time you two decided to behave like two-year olds. Now make up already; it's too much pressure for me to act the adult in this lot!" Ron yelled through the door.

Harry would never remember who started laughing first. He just knew once they started, it was really hard to stop. He was distracted a few minutes later, however, when Hermione started to cry.

"Hermione?" Harry stared down at her.

"I'm s-sorry, Harry, but it's been so hard. Knowing, I m-mean. Do you have any idea h-how heartbreaking it was, w-watching you dig through piles of old Daily Prophets, hoping to find her, and knowing? But I couldn't tell you, Harry, I just couldn't." She buried her face in her hands, and her next words were almost impossible to make out between the sobs. "I k-kept hoping you w-would figure it out so I w-wouldn't have to k-keep it from you any m-more. I hated l-lying to you, but Harry, _I promised." _She raised her head and choked out, "I'm so s-sorry, Harry."

Harry looked down into those wet and slightly red cinnamon eyes, and all of the anger he felt suddenly vanished. This was _Hermione, _the Hermione who had supported him when everyone thought he'd put his own name into the Goblet of Fire, the Hermione who had spent hours helping him learn to do a Summoning Charm, who had helped him to save Sirius, who had been there for him without question so many times through the years. How could he take his anger out on her, when she'd been keeping her word despite all obstacles as only Hermione would. How could he yell at her for simply being true to her nature - especially when he knew in his heart that the rage he had felt was for someone else entirely?

He looked down at the photo in his hand. The sight of his mother's open, smiling face as she looked at her friends solidified his decision. "You're right, Hermione," he said in a low tone. "I need to hear this from _her."_ He scrambled off the bed, photo still clutched in his hand.

"You're g-going _now?"_ Hermione asked, sounding slightly shocked at this mercurial change in mood.

"It can't wait," he said simply, before he bent over and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry too, Mione. For everything," he said softly. He ruffled her hair with his hand. "Just promise me - no more secrets, ok?"

"Harry, wait, there's something else." Hermione dashed the tears on her face on the back of her hand. 

"What, now you're going to tell me that she and my father had a steamy affair?" Harry asked with a grin. "The soap opera plot thickens?"

"Lena doesn't know that Sirius is innocent," Hermione said softly.

"What? Why didn't you tell her?" 

"Snape stopped me the next morning outside of Arithmancy and said I couldn't let her know. He said that Dumbledore had forbidden anyone to tell her; her doctor felt that it could cause a relapse."

"And you believed him?" Harry said sardonically. "Look at how he's chatting her up, Hermione! Bringing her tea between classes? He doesn't give a damn about her relapsing, he's just afraid she'll find out Sirius is all right and chuck _him_ in the lake with the giant squid."

A small smile crossed Hermione's features. "You know, for someone you claim to be angry with, you certainly are protective of her."

"Yeah," Harry said, turning to the door, "well, she deserves better than Snape. But then, Moaning Myrtle deserves better than Snape." He knocked on the door and then called, "It's safe, Ron. You can let us out – we promise not to injure ourselves or those around us." He grinned over his shoulder at Hermione as he heard Ron perform the counter-spell and unlock the door. "I'm almost sorry not to be here and witness the fight about to happen over this stunt of his."

Ron stood up as Harry emerged from the room. "Kiss and make up?" he asked, an odd look on his face.

"Yeah, she's packing her things so we can run off together and become traveling groupies for the Harpies," Harry said with a grin. Ron looked stunningly unamused. Harry rolled his eyes. "You were right – and yes, we apologized to each other. You are _not _sane on the topic of your girlfriend, did you know that? She's no doubt starting to droop at the idea that you two haven't snogged for a good ten minutes. Cut me a break, why don't you?"

"I was just wondering why you didn't come up with a better cover," Ron said without so much as a smile. "You know she hates Quidditch."

Harry snorted, and Ron snickered at his own joke. Hermione poked her head out of her room, looking torn between anxiety and amusement. "Shhh! Honestly, you two – it's almost one in the morning!" As if she had been waiting for a sign that it was safe to rejoin the trio, Ginny appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

Harry stopped laughing the moment he saw her. The reproachful look in her eyes made him feel as though he had just been doused with an especially large bucket of cold water. Beside him, Ron sobered up quickly and said to his sister, "We'll just be leaving the two of you alone, shall we?" With that he reached over for Hermione's hand and pulled her back to her room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Subtle," Ginny commented in the ringing silence. "So, I take it the previous frivolity and hijinks means that you've apologized to both my brother and Hermione?" Her voice was unnaturally high-pitched, and Harry could see that her hands were shaking.

"Right in one," Harry said softly, stepping towards her. A moment later, he was holding her, his hands stroking her soft hair while he whispered his apologies in her ear. "I never wanted you to worry," he said. "I just realized where they were going, and _knew _I had to follow them."

"Oh, Harry – it's not that." Ginny wiped at her eyes, and looked up at him. "It's just that when McGonagall told me that both you and Malfoy were missing, I remembered what you had said about his father being there the night Voldemort rose. And I couldn't help but wonder if he might have hurt you." She gave him a sidelong look. "I never dreamed the two of you might actually be out together, at least not willingly or without the threat of dire pain." She managed a smile. "Or maybe dragons."

"I know, it's a bit much to take in." Harry suddenly remembered what he had left Hermione's room to do, and looked down at the photo still held tightly in his hand. "Almost as much as this," he said, handing the photo to Ginny. 

She looked down at it, and then up at him, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I'll see you at breakfast," she whispered, reaching up to brush a kiss across his lips. She handed him back the photo before she hurried off to her dorm, pausing before she left to turn and give him a quick smile. Harry watched her slip through the door before he headed off for his own dorm.

He'd squeaked out of trouble once that night. No need to push it further. Grabbing his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk, he made his way silently down the stairs and through the now completely deserted Common Room, coming to a stop just outside the portrait hole. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak on, and waited.

Fifteen minutes passed, and then twenty. Just as Harry was starting to develop a Charlie-horse in his leg, the portrait hole swung open and a rather disheveled looking Lavender and Seamus snuck in through it. Harry had to fight hard not to laugh; Seamus was sporting a large mark on his neck that was, unmistakably, a hickey. It was a long moment before Harry remembered why he was lurking outside the door, and managed to crawl through the hole and out into the corridor just before the painting swung shut.

__

Right, Harry thought to himself. _Now all I have to do is get to Velange's office without running into Filch._ He had prowled the hallways of the school numerous times before in his cloak without incident, but oddly enough, he was especially nervous about it this time. 

To his surprise however, the hallways were empty, and he found himself standing at the doorway to Velange's room in a matter of mere minutes. As he stood there, his arm raised to knock, all sorts of questions were flying through his brain. _Where was she all those years? Why didn't she tell me who she was? Why is she here? What exactly does she know about Sirius? Why is Snape so protective of her? WHY DID SHE LIE TO ME??_ Harry looked down at the picture he clutched in his right hand, and saw his mother's smiling face as she giggled with the Velange sisters, all three girls' faces looking innocent and unworried. The sight of their nearly identical green eyes and laughing faces strengthened his resolve. He knocked, hard.

"In a minute," he heard a female voice say, and then the door opened, revealing a red-eyed Helena Velange. "Harry?" she asked, looking startled. "What on earth? If this is about tonight, it can wait until morning. Do you know what time it is-" her voice trailed off as Harry thrust the photo of his mother into her hand.

"I think we need to talk, _Godmother."_ Harry said in a cold voice.

***

"You've not touched your tea," Velange said. Harry was sitting in a chair beside the fire in her small room, a full cup of the steaming liquid in his hands. He glared at her.

It was far from the scene he had pictured in his mind on the way there. Velange had not blubbered excuses, or cried, or indeed revealed any emotion whatsoever as she had held open the door and invited him to come inside. "I could do with a cup of tea, Harry – would you care to join me?" was all she had said, as she had handed him back the photo. Harry had been too stunned to come up with an argument, and besides, he really could use something hot to drink. 

"I need to thank your friend Hermione for keeping her word as long as she did," Velange mused as she settled in the chair across from him. "I half expected you to come bursting in here the night I told her."

"Yeah, well – Hermione keeps her promises," Harry muttered. "Unlike some," he added spitefully, and was pleased to see that Velange had flinched as though he had slapped her.

"You know, I've been rehearsing this speech in my head for over two years, and now that the moment's come, I haven't a clue what to say to you," she mused softly. "Where do I begin? How can I explain and make you understand?" For the first time since he'd knocked on her door, her voice shook. 

Harry couldn't explain it, but the sound infuriated him. "Here's a novel concept: you could just tell me _the truth_," he snapped. And then he started in his chair as the sound of a familiar growl reached his ears. He dropped his mug completely when a large and shaggy black dog poked its head out from the room where Velange lived, and trotted over to his professor's side. "What is _he_ doing here?" Harry asked in amazement.

Velange glanced down at the dog, which had pushed his nose into her hand in an affectionate manner. "Oh, I've been feeding him," she said absently, before she hummed softly and sang the word _"Reparo". _The shattered mug flew back together, and into Harry's still open hand. "He's not at all what you'd expect, being so large," she continued, as though she had done nothing more amazing then offer him a crisp. "He's surprisingly gentle, so much so that I've been allowing him to stay with meI hated the thought of him out in the cold with winter approaching." Harry's mouth was still hanging slightly open in surprise. Velange looked at him blandly. "Harry?"

"You, you fixed this – without a wand," he said in a hollow voice, indicating the mug.

"Oh, that." Velange nodded, and tosses Sirius a cookie from the plate at her side. "Yes, wellthat's a part of what you want to know, isn't it." She fixed her sharp green eyes on Harry's, and said in an oddly flat tone. "You want to know where I've been, and why I haven't been in your life. You want to know why I kept my identity from you all summer, and why you had no idea you even had a godmother until now." She took a gulp of tea, and Harry winced. His own cup was still noticeably hot from the drink that had been there, and he could only imagine how desperate she had been for a distraction for her to be swallowing the scalding liquid. Velange, however, appeared not to notice. "How am I doing so far?" she asked.

It took Harry a moment to remember what she'd said. "That's a lot of it," he muttered. This was the oddest moment of his life, he decided. He'd pictured facing Velange in a scene that would involve a lot of yelling. Instead, they were mostly just watching one another, while she occasionally tossed another biscuit down to Sirius. Then again, he had never pictured that his godfather would be hunched at Velange's side in his animagus form, his eyes never leaving Harry's face and a warning clearly written in his eyes.

"All right, then. Let's start from the first question: where have I been? No doubt you've seen the article Miss Granger referred to when she came to see me."

"The one that announced you'd been committed to St. Mungo's," Harry said before he could stop himself. Velange nodded. "You can't have been there all this time," Harry said defensively. "So that's not going to work as an excuse."

"I have no excuses, Harry – all I have to give you are the reasons for my absence, and then you can judge for yourself whether or not you chose to allow me in your life."

"I can already tell you the answer to that – and it's no!" Harry snapped. "I have people who care about me, really care about me, looking after me-"

"Oh, of course." Velange looked non-plussed. "I had no idea you were so fond of your aunt and uncle." She raised an eyebrow at him. Harry could think of no answer to this. "Didn't think so," Velange continued. "You stayed with them, Harry, not because no one else wanted you, but because they are your blood relatives. Surely Dumbledore explained this to you – the reason that he had you stay with them in the first place."

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort said something," he mumbled. "The night he came back. He said I was safe as long as I was in my relations' care, that he couldn't touch me while I was with them."

"Ancient magicks, summoned by Dumbledore shortly after your parents were killed," Velange nodded. "He wanted to be sure that Voldemort and his supporters were unable to come back and finish the job. That's why you were placed there, Harry. Hundreds of people wrote in to the Ministry office, offering you a home, but Dumbledore insisted on placing you with Petunia."

"But you didn't," Harry said slowly. "You didn't even check on me."

"No, I didn't." She took a deep breath. "Not because I wouldn't have wanted to, Harry – it was because I didn't know to check on you." She bit her lip before she said in a rush, "I lost everything dear to me in a matter of hours: your mother, James, Sirius, Lauren – all of it."

"Lauren?" Harry asked, confused. 

Velange didn't appear to have heard him. "All I wanted was to go back – go back to where we were all safe, to where we were all friends. I wanted to go back to when the world still made sense." Sirius licked at her hand then, and she absently stroked his forehead. "And so I _did _go back. I went back to our last year at Hogwarts and I stayed there, for five years." She set down her mug, and then got out of her chair to kneel in front of Harry. "I can't begin to make up to you all that you've lost, Harry. But I'd like to try and begin to make it up to you – if you'll let me."

Harry looked into her eyes, and wanted to believe her. It was not unlike looking into his mother's eyes – Lena's were the same bright green as his own. And yet – some of what she said spun through his mind. _"I went back to our last year at Hogwarts and I stayed there, for five years." _He felt something harden inside, and he got to his feet, nearly stumbling in his anxiousness to get away from her. 

"Five years? Wow – that only leaves you with nine to explain." Harry didn't recognize the sound of his own voice – he knew he had never spoken to anyone like this in his life. It was a voice that was so completely devoid of emotion, he thought it might be how a victim of the Dementors would have sounded, had they been able to speak. 

Velange didn't move from where she was. "Harry, please – you've got to understand-" He was pleased to hear a real note of panic in her voice now.

"Oh, I understand," Harry spat at her. "You couldn't deal with life, so you left it. You couldn't deal with the thought of actually upholding your promise to my mother, so you left me. Well, bugger the idea of me swallowing that story, _Godmother. _I chose not to deal with you, or your life, or your excuses and lies! No wonder Dumbledore didn't want me to know who you were! I guess he figured I didn't need any more disappointments." Harry sneered this last bit, all the while wondering where this deep unyielding anger had sprung from. He hadn't been this angry since Malfoy had insulted Cedric on the train ride home last year. Sirius barked, and Harry snapped at him, "Stay here with her, then – see if I care! She left you too, you know!" And with that, Harry stormed from the room.

***

A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot: Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑhä, Erinyes, Johnny V, holly, tima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm, sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDemented, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, Starlite, baby norbert, Alyssa Potter, Majorca, Ennacie, H. Sanders, Lidder Deed, Lolli Potter, Green Eyed Knight, Kranberries, Curry Spice, chibbleworthy, gilaesther, Aimee Brueker, nightdweller-pr, CiA, Veritaserum, laney, BeachHottie707, littlemissvoldemort, Christy, Cesta Teristen, mystic Guardian , meara, Ishtar, twilight dreamer, Sabby, Stewart, and the prodigious Unregistered. 

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	18. Siren's Song Chapter 18

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF)

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested. The song "Wild Horses" is by the Rolling Stones. (_Jump Back — The Best of the Rolling Stones, _Emi International, 1993) I am loosely basing the performance, however, off a cover performance by The Sundays. (I know, I know — the _Buffy _soundtrack came out after 1996. I always liked the song, but I loved it after I heard The Sundays' version. Mildly cheating on the timeline but they're my rules — I'll break em.) Velange's siren song comes from Enya's _Dan Y Dwyr (Beneath the Waters) _off her 1993 album _The Celts._ (Warner Music, 1993)

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral, Elliott, J.A.A. , Elizabeth Culmer, and Becky - my eternal thanks and praise.

***

Christmas at Hogwarts was fast approaching, but Harry found himself unable to enjoy the pre-holiday merriment that was gripping the castle. Fred and George had insisted on decorating the tree in Gryffindor Tower themselves, with Angelina's very reluctant approval, and the Gryffindors found themselves face to face with a gaudy red and gold tree two weeks before Christmas, festooned with moving ornaments into which the twins appeared to have banished some rather unfortunate fairies, twinkling garlands that changed colours every hour, and candles that attempted to sing (rather unsuccessfully) a myriad of carols. Their finishing touch was a huge red and gold star that blew Ever-lasting bubbles all around the Common Room, and sang shrilly every fifteen minutes to announce the newest countdown to the holidays. No one particularly enjoyed their decorations, but as the twins seemed quite proud of their efforts, the House appeared to have reached a silent agreement not to comment on their garish new interior decorating.

Harry had not spoken to either Professor Velange or Sirius since the night of their confrontation. During Current Events class, he stared straight ahead, refusing to so much as glance in his teacher's direction. For her part, Velange treated him with her usual warm courtesy, but no one could help but notice how she took great pains not to call on him in class. 

Snape, however, seemed as determined to punish Harry for his outburst against Velange as she was to ignore it. Always quick to belittle Harry's work in class, and ask demanding questions regarding their coursework that Harry had no prayer of knowing, Snape had reached a new level in belligerence. When the class was assigned the especially difficult task of brewing a batch of Skele-grow, Snape partnered him with Neville. Despite Harry's best efforts, the potion exploded no less than twice during the course of the lesson, which resulted in them both being sent to see Madam Pomfrey; Neville sporting an especially long nose, and extra teeth, while Harry had somehow managed to develop three thumbs on his right hand. Madam Pomfrey also seemed somewhat distant with him, although Harry suspected that may have been due to his snapping at her when she mentioned Velange's name.

Harry still hadn't quite come to terms with his feelings towards Hermione for her actions in hiding the truth about his godmother. Their usual easy friendship had slipped into a never-ending cycle of stilted conversation and resentful looks, and Ron appeared to be straining to control himself from chastising them both. Harry even found himself pulling back from Ginny, who at first did her best to get him to talk about what was going on, and finally ended up yelling at him one afternoon when they were shopping together in Hogsmeade when he had refused point-blank to meet Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks.

"Harry, you and Hermione have apologized to each other — if you can't make up and act like adults then I don't think you're old enough to be with me!" And with a decided motion, she had turned and stalked away, as Harry stood frozen, gaping in shock after her.

So with two weeks to go until Christmas, Harry found himself slowly walking in the direction of Hogsmeade, not exactly sure why he was even going. He had some holiday shopping left to finish as he had yet to buy either Ginny or Sirius a present, but at this rate they probably wouldn't open it anyway. It was a rather lonely feeling as he walked, listening to Lavender and Parvati's giggles behind him.

He dragged behind as the rest of his classmates made their way towards the Three Broomsticks, not really wanting to see Hermione and Ron there. He wandered up and down the street, hoping against hope to see anyplace he had yet to shop as he still had no idea what to get for his last two presents. It was something of a surprise then when he found himself standing outside the door of the Hog's Head. After a long moment, he pulled the door open and headed inside.

Lauren was up on the stage singing, and as Harry's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom he caught sight of Bill Weasley sitting at the bar and watching her. Harry was somewhat taken aback by the look on Bill's face. There was more then just casual interest there. In fact, Bill's expression reminded him uncomfortably of the one he had seen flicker across Sirius's face when he had spoken about Velange — longing, passion — and not a small hint of frustration.

"Bill," Harry said, as he slipped into the seat next to him.

Bill nodded, not taking his eyes off the woman on stage. Harry couldn't blame him really; tonight with her fire-red hair twisted up into a messy knot at the back of her head, and a rust colored robe that appeared to be (barely) held together by some rather erratic stitches on the shoulders and waist, Lauren reminded Harry of one of the more popular Muggle singers that Dudley had been drooling over all summer. "Disgraceful, the way she rolls out of bed and then goes about her business," he recalled Aunt Petunia saying, her mouth pursed into a particularly tight frown. 

"Pretty big crowd today," Bill said as he looked around the pub. "Surprised not to see more of your classmates here."

"Yeah well, Madam Rosemerta's offering free gift wrap at the Three Broomsticks," Harry shrugged. "I think your girlfriend's costing her some serious Galleons."

"She's not my girlfriend," Bill said brusquely. Harry's doubt must have been all too clearly written on his face as Bill rolled his eyes and continued. "Women are complicated, Harry — and no doubt about it, Lauren Velange is all woman."

"If you say so," Harry looked up as Rene set a pint of butterbeer before him.

"Mr. Potter," Rene said in his low gravely voice. "Glad to see you here this afternoon. Yer just in time t' hear the circus of pain."

"Circus of pain?" Harry asked as he picked up the mug of steaming beer.

"It's the holidays, Rene. She's just singing what people want to hear," Bill said defensively.

Rene grunted. "Sure they do — if they're lookin' to drown in their sorrows as well as their spirits." He moved on down the bar, and Harry shot Bill a quizzical look.

"Let's just say she's not exactly singing about sunshine and bunnies up there," Bill said with an amused look.

As if on cue, the next song started and Harry felt a shiver of longing pass through him that was as powerful as punch to his gut.

__

Childhood living is easy to do

The things that you wanted I bought them for you

Graceless lady you know who I am

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away

I watched you suffer a dull aching pain

Now you've decided to show me the same

No sweeping exit or offstage lines

Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away

I know I've dreamed you a sin and a lie

I have my freedom but I don't have much time

Faith has been broken tears must be cried

Let's do some living after we die

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses we'll ride them some day

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses we'll ride them some day

Lauren's eyes seemed to rest on Bill as she sang the last phrase. Harry thought he saw Bill wince before he finished his drink in a single swallow. "Be seeing you." Before Harry could protest, Bill was already on his feet, pulling his cloak tightly about him. "Take care of him, Rene," was the last thing Harry heard before Bill hurried from the restaurant. 

Harry shook his head as he pulled a long drink of butterbeer. His own romance was complicated enough; he didn't want to think about anyone else's at the moment.

A flash of red at his side made him pause, and turn. Lauren's green eyes looked uncharacteristically sober. "Bill left," Harry said flatly as he returned to his drink.

"I saw." She held up a hand and Rene slid a glass of some sort of dark liquid in her direction. "Not why I came over."

"Yeah, well, I don't really feel like talking — least of all to you." Harry shot back at her. _She was my Mum's friend too — and she left me, just like her sister did. _And yet something Velange had said niggled at his mind:

__

"I lost everything dear to me in a matter of hours: your mother, James, Sirius, Lauren — all of it." What had she meant by that? Had Lauren been hurt somehow?

__

Quit thinking about her! Harry thought angrily to himself. He set down his drink a bit harder then he intended, and splashed some of the foamy liquid out onto Rene's shining bar.

He could feel Lauren's eyes on him, and yet she placidly took a sip of her drink. For a long moment, neither spoke. When she broke the silence, it made him start.

"Damned pity that — I had _so _looked forward to an evening of dealing with a stubborn, know-it-all teenaged boy." Her tone was light enough, but it made Harry flush all the same.

"You think you know me? You don't know anything about me! You had your chance, just like your sister did, and you ignored it! Forgive me for treating you the same way." Harry picked up his glass and started to storm off to another corner of the pub, but Lauren placed a hand on his arm, her grip like a vise. "What the — what do you think you're doing?" Harry hissed at her.

"Shut up and listen to me for a second." Her eyes flashed, and for a moment Harry felt a shiver of fear run up his spine. 

"I don't have to listen to a damned word you have to say," Harry retorted, shaking off her hand.

"Fine." She had the gall to look amused. "Close yourself off to the truth. Be ignorant and go on hating someone for being caught up in a situation that was out of their control. But that's not the attitude I would expect from the boy who defeated Voldemort — nor would I expect it from any son of James and Lily Potter."

"You shut up about my parents!" Harry snapped, not thinking about how his voice would carry. Several heads turned to look. Harry was livid to see that Lauren didn't even have the grace to look abashed. 

"You wanted the truth, Harry Potter — so why don't you put aside that anger for ten minutes and _listen to it?"_ Lauren's smile never wavered. "I need to tell you about three very valuable lessons. Give me ten minutes with no interruptions — when I'm done you can ask me anything you want to know. When you're done, you can tell me where I can go and how I can get there. But you need to hear the truth before you heap any more guilt on my sister's head." She stood there, waiting, a pleasant expression on her face. They could have been discussing the weather, for all the concern she showed.

Harry considered. Ten minutes, and then she would answer any question he wanted to know? Incredibly tempting, especially as he knew she wouldn't want to hold anything back in her efforts to win him over into forgiving her sister. And there were so many things he wanted to know

He jerked his head in acquiescence.

"Excellent," she smiled more broadly. "Let me tell the lads to go on without me for a bit." She stepped away and had a brief low conversation with one of her guitarists before she returned. "Lead the way," she said simply.

Harry glanced about the pub and shook his head. "Not in here," he said. He had a feeling he might really lose his temper before this was all said and done and he didn't particularly feel like having an audience to this.

"Fine by me," Lauren glanced up at the stage, and Harry had to strain to hear her hum the word _"Accio!" _ A few seconds later, her cloak came flying in their direction. Lauren deftly caught it, and pulled it around her shoulders. "Outside," she said, even as she headed for the door. Harry had little choice but to follow.

***

The weak winter sun provided little warmth as he followed Lauren's figure over to some tables that were haphazardly arranged on what was obviously used as some sort of deck in good weather. She sat down at a table, and pulled her cloak more tightly around her. "How I ever thought weather like this was normal is beyond me," she said casually, her teeth chattering. Then she looked up at Harry from beneath her hood. "This may take a while, so you might want to sit down."

"I'll stand," Harry said flatly.

"Suit yourself," she said. Then she gave a hollow-sounding laugh. "No more dodging this."

"What?" Harry asked, wondering what she was talking about.

"This," she waved a hand around them. "The _Talk._ I've been dreading it for years, and trying to figure what on earth I could possibly tell you that would make it easier for you to understand. Then I realized nothing about this, or you, would be easy — and I deserved nothing less."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you and your sister memorize this speech? Get a new writer. I'm not buying the whole remorse act. You promised me answers — I think I deserve to hear them."

"Of course you do." Harry heard her voice break — the first time he had see her express any real emotion. "I guess it's easiest to explain if I start with my sister's death."

"Your sister?" Harry asked, confused.

"Not Lena — our other sister, Lisette. You see, Lena and I weren't originally twins — we were triplets. Our youngest sister, Lisette, died just after our sixth birthday. And shortly after that was when our names became tainted."

Harry's confusion must have been all too obvious on his face. Lauren gave an apologetic smile. "See, I've already messed this up. I should start with the fact that our father was, well, not exactly a supporter of all things light and fluffy."

"My father Edmund and his family were fervent supporters of the dark wizard Grindelwald. After Grindelwald's fall, my father felt certain that his new role in the battle against the Light was to father a child who would grow up to help the next generation. His family hoped to one day fulfill what their forefathers had begun — the gradual overtaking of the wizard world, and the eventual conquering of Muggle societies." At this, the singer rolled her eyes. "Arrogant bastards."

Harry was intrigued but didn't let his interest show. Lauren continued, "My mother was the youngest child from a very poor family, so she viewed my father as nothing less then a savior. He helped to support her parents, and my uncle." Lauren's face darkened. "My mother never realized that he had sought her ought exclusively for her family tree. When the medi-wizards announced that my mother was having triplets, the entire Velange clan cheered." Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "Three children, cursed as we were — how could we help but join Grindelwald's successor?"

She looked at Harry then, her voice bitter. "My mother's family, Harry, had certain, erm, ties to creatures better left alone." She raised a brow at him, obviously not wanting to state what she felt must be obvious by now.

The problem was, Harry was completely bewildered. "Come again?" he asked, feeling as if he risked life and limb with that very question.

Lauren rolled her eyes again. "Isn't it obvious? You've heard us."

Harry's confusion must have showed in his face. Lauren sighed and held out a hand. Then she opened her mouth and began to sing.

__

"Dan y dwr, tawelwch sydd.

Dan y dwr, galwaf i.

Nid yw'r swn gyda fi. 

Dan y dwr, tawelwch am byth.

Dan y dwr, galwaf i.

Nid yw'r swn ddim fwy gyda fi."

Harry recognized no words, but found himself not caring. Her voice seemed to reach in behind his mind and drag him to her side, but for once he did not fight. He would have done anything, _anything, _so long as she never stopped singing. He reached her side and felt a hand softly brush the hair back from his face. A voice inside his head was softly whispering, _"Forgive me, forgive me." _

And Harry whispered back _"Yes,"._

It was over as quickly as it had begun. Harry blinked and found himself clutching at Lauren's hand. Her wide green eyes were closed, and he thought he saw a tear track its way down her cheek. When she opened them to look back at him, the terrible knowledge of what she was became suddenly all too obvious, like a wave rushing into the shore. He dropped his hand and backed away, feeling slightly sickened.

__

"Siren," he spat. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on that night at Seges!"

"You're wrong," Lauren said quietly. "I would never —"

"You just _did!"_ Harry shot back.

"Well, yes — to show you what I _could_ have been doing all along." Lauren raised a brow. "Don't you think I would have done something by now, if all I was after was to control you?"

Harry couldn't think of an answer to that. Lauren continued. "I won't lie to you, Harry. At your Seges party, I wanted everyone to relax and have a good time. There was so much strain written on everyone's faces — it reminded me of how my class looked during Voldemort's first reign. I merely suggested that everyone relax and let go." She smiled slightly at the memory. "Although, I had no idea that Thomas Jordan's son would be so open to the ideahe must inherit that from his mother-"

"So you're both sirens," Harry said from between clenched teeth. "So what has that got to do with anything?"

"Everything," Lauren replied, looking faintly surprised that she had to explain further. "Our father's most fervent wish came true with our birth — and triplets! The significance of the number three' is surely something you've covered in at least one of your classes. The strongest magical number there is — the triangle, the trinity, the triumvirate. No side stronger than the others, and without all three parts the structure cannot survive. Imagine the power that three sirens could give to Grindelwald's successor" Her voice trailed off, and Harry found himself picturing what she was describing. Three beautiful women, with the power to sway minds — no _Imperius_ would have been stronger, no _Cruciatus_ more convincing. He felt goose bumps prickle his flesh, and knew they were not simply from the cold.

"My father's friends immediately closed ranks around our family. My mother was never strong-willed, and their talk of power and prestige turned her head. Her daughters would usher in the new Lord of the Dark, and be his most powerful and trusted weapons against the Light. We would be persons revered." Lauren looked away, and Harry thought she looked as though she might be ill. "I only know this because of what my uncle told me."

"Your uncle, the Death-Eater?" Harry snorted. "Right trustworthy source of information, no doubt."

"My uncle made a choice, a very horrible choice." Lauren's hands played nervously with the chains around her neck. "He had his reasons-"

"What possible reasons does anyone have for following Voldemort?" Harry snapped. "Your uncle was a murderer! Your parents were necromancers! The only reason I can think of for my mother choosing your sister to be my godmother is that she was obviously under the influence of siren song!" He stood up, the same furious anger that had bubbled up inside him in Velange's office roaring within his veins. "I'm off! I've had enough!" He turned to go. But he froze when he heard her next words.

"I could _make_ you stay, Harry. You and I both know I could." He spun around to face her, hand reaching unconsciously for his wand. "But I prefer to simply remind you of your promise — eight more minutes, and then I will answer any questions you choose."

Harry forced his hand to return to his side. Yes, he had his wand, but then, she had her own powers, and in truth, this was not a duel he really wanted to fightnot when the answers he was searching for were so close at hand.

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, my sister's death and my parents downfall. Such a lovely tale, really." Lauren's laugh was brittle. "My parents' activities with the Dark supporters could hardly go unnoticed. The morning of our 6th birthday, Lisette accompanied my mother into Knockturn Alley. Aurors swarmed the street without warning on a Ministry raid. In the scuffle, my sister vanished. Her body was found a week later, outside a cave in Dover."

"Surely the Aurors didn't-" Harry started. Lauren waved her hand impatiently, effectively cutting him off.

"Of course not. My father was sure it was other wizards, jealous of his rising status within the Dark sect, who had murdered his daughter. He renounced his former association, and went to Dumbledore to offer his assistance in the fight he knew was to come. He had heard of a new Dark Lord rising, and wished to make his new loyalties known immediately."

"My mother, however, was more focused on discovering the identity of her daughter's killers than she was with reconciling to Dumbledore and his supporters. She became obsessed with the idea of communicating with Lisette; she could both bring the killers to justice and have a chance to say goodbye to her child. My father agreed. They sought out Ephialtes, a dark wizard whom my mother had been introduced to via a member of my father's former associates. They spent a year attempting to contact my sister, and well — you know the rest." Lauren looked at the ground. "The entire wizard world thought they were practicing the darkest magicks of our kind, attempting to raise God only knows what. In fact, they were simply two heartbroken parents trying to communicate with their murdered daughter." She raised her head to look at the darkening sky, and this time Harry was sure she was crying. "So endeth lesson number one: Never judge a book solely on the words of its critics." 

Harry had sat again as she had told her story. He couldn't have left now if she had banished him. "What's lesson number two?"

Lauren continued to study the sky. When she spoke, her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear the words. "Lesson number two, Harry, is to treasure family above all else."

"Our family had been no closer than most, and less than others. However, my sisters and I had always been inseparable. I think anytime you spent the first nine months of your life with someone, it creates a very special bond — look at the Weasley twins, the Patils—"

"But Padma and Parvati are in different houses," Harry said with a frown. "They're nowhere near as close as Fred and George are."

"You're too familiar with them both to see it. But take a step back and watch them. I have. They're in here most weekends, and even if they're not together, they're still keeping an eye out for one another, talking to one another with their faces and gestures." Harry must have looked doubtful, because Lauren added, "Don't believe me, eh? Watch them sometime in the Great Hall — you'll see what I mean." She seemed to lose herself in a memory, because it was a moment before she continued. "Lena and I now had only each other. Our aunt and uncle took us in right away, of course, but when you're six years old, nothing really replaces the memory of parents and sister-"

Lauren froze then and gasped, "Oh, Harry — I am so sorry. I shouldn't have to explain this to you, of all people."

"Actually, you do," Harry said in a low voice. "I don't remember them. I don't know what my life was like before Voldemort killed them." He swallowed. "But you do."

"Yes." Lauren whispered. "I do. And I promise to tell you what you want to know, but Harry, I have to finish this." Her voice shook slightly, and he could tell that she was trembling. But whether it was from the cold or nerves was unclear.

He waited. A few more minutes, then he could find out _everything._

"At any rate," Lauren continued, "Lena and I always felt that something was missing. It wasn't until we got to Hogwarts that we felt we'd found it." Her smile was brilliant in growing darkness. "Your mother."

"We met Lily on the train. She looked so lost and confused. We knew right away she _had_ to be Muggle-born — her clothes were far too fashionable to be wizard-disguise. Our uncle didn't like Muggles, so Lily was the first one we'd really ever spoken to. We talked practically non-stop the entire train ride. In fact, we were only interrupted once — by your father, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black." At this memory, Lauren's smile became a full-fledged grin. "Even then, those three were causing havoc and mayhem."

"By the time the train pulled into Hogsmeade, we'd already decided we all wanted to be in the same House. Sirius was practically hopping up and down in his insistence that it be Gryffindor. James was all for Ravenclaw. We knew our father had been in Slytherin, and Lena hesitantly mentioned that as tricky as the boys seemed to be, perhaps that would be an option."

Her smile faded a bit. "Sirius, of course, demanded to know what we knew of Slytherin House. Lena was honest, and said only that our father had been in it. And then he asked what our name was" Lauren blanched. "We'd yet to tell anyone on the train. We'd been shunned so much in our village school for being who we were that we learned early on not to volunteer our last names. Lena said Lauren and Lena _Velange', _and it was as if she'd dared him to flinch first." 

Her smile returned as she said, "Your mother, bless her, said Oh, how pretty — you must be French.' Then she looked at Sirius and asked Isn't that a pretty name?' It was as if she _knew._ I've never forgotten that. I knew right then and there that we'd found our missing link." 

Harry, who had been picturing the scene in his mind, found himself smiling as well. "What did Sirius say to _that?" _

Her smile remained. "He stared at your mother, said something like Barking mad, the lot of you,' and left the car, James and Remus right behind him."

"I explained everything as quickly as we could to your mother. Lena just sat there, looking miserable. When I finished, Lena asked if she still wanted to be in our House. And do you know what she said?" Harry shook his head, feeling as though she wasn't paying attention anyway, as she continued without looking at him. "She said What? Give up my shot at joining you two in your evil plot to take over the world? You can't be serious!'" Lauren's eyes danced. "And that pretty much sealed it. She went before we did in the Sorting, of course, and after she was placed in Gryffindor we both kept praying we'd go there as well."

"What did the Sorting Hat say to you?" Harry asked, wondering if like him, it had thought about placing the Velanges in Slytherin.

Lauren frowned, but not as if she were annoyed — as if she was trying very hard to remember. "You know," she said slowly, "I don't think anyone has ever asked me that. I know Lena and I never talked about it, and your mother was far too focused on the fact we all actually got into the same House to bring it up." She shrugged. "It made some noise about putting me into Hufflepuff, if you can believe it."

"Hufflepuff!" Harry repeated, louder than he'd intended.

She raised a brown at him. "Yes, Hufflepuff. And no, it never even mentioned the S' word, in case you were wondering."

Harry was stunned. Lauren continued. "So there we were, in Gryffindor. And for the first time since we'd lost our sister, we felt like we had our family back. Well, ok, not perfectly at first, as we really rather hated the boys. In fact, we didn't get along with them for the longest time — the number of times we wound up in detention!" She laughed. "The Prank Wars went on for three years, and I think even Dumbledore was at his wit's end with us."

"What did you do?" Harry asked with a grin.

"What _didn't_ we do, more like it. Your mother was brilliant in Charms, I was second in the class in Potions, and Lena — well, Lena excelled in nicking whatever we needed. Pit this against your father and Sirius, who were tied for first in the class in Transfiguration, and poor Remus, who would have been first in everything if his friends hadn't distracted him so much, and well — that's why it was called a War." A far-off look in her eyes, Lauren stood and paced around on the deck, counting on her fingers. "Let's see. Your mother charmed their beds so that they walked out of the tower, and the boys kept waking up on the front lawn. James retaliated by transfiguring her cauldron into a grindylow just before final exams second year, so that poor Lily had to actually learn to _swim_ in order to recover it. Lena and I covered a section of their brooms with Swelling Solution so that a rather, erm, sensitive section of their anatomy blew up like a balloon, just before the Slytherin match our third year." She turned to shoot Harry a mischievous grin, and he found himself blushing for his father's sake. "Remus retaliated by switching out our hairbrushes for ones he'd invented, so that we showed up in the Great Hall the next morning with florescent _green_ hair. The only rule was that you couldn't retaliate for yourself, and that you couldn't do the same trick twice. McGonagall was on the verge of a mental meltdown when something unexpected happened."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Sirius discovered girls." Lauren rolled her eyes at the memory. "There was a very pretty Chaser on the Slytherin team, Narcissa Cantor, who was a year ahead of us. He followed around after her like a lovesick puppy for about six months, much to our amusement, and Remus and James' disgust. Around Halloween during our fourth year, Lena decided she couldn't take it anymore, and started sending him secret admirer notes."

"Why did she do that?" Harry inquired, puzzled as to why anyone would think that was a good idea.

"To make him wonder, to distract him from Narcissa and generally spare the House a lot of embarrassment. He had never really had a shot with her, you see — she was seeing someone who'd already left school — Lucius Malfoy."

"Narcissa — wait, Sirius Black was pining after Draco's _mum?"_ Harry asked, feeling slightly sick. He caught himself before he said _"Wait till I get a hold of him." _No one was supposed to know that Sirius was not only alive and well, but within easy access.

"Come now, Harry — he was a teenaged boy, and Narcissa was hardly a troll," Lauren said with an amused expression. "You look as thrilled about it as your father was. He said Sirius had lost the remaining bits of his mind."

"So what happened with the secret admirer notes?"

Lauren grinned. "Sirius was the first man Lena and I ever, er, tested our skills' out on."

"You _tricked _him!" Harry sputtered.

"Not exactly. Lena just arranged for him to meet her in the Astronomy Tower, and she was humming when he arrived. I was hiding behind a desk, and was there as back-up in case anything went wrong." Lauren suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It worked like, well, a charm. He was hooked. Lena was ecstatic — the ultimate prank — causing her sworn nemesis to fall for her!" She smiled a bit. "We should have known that beneath all that bickering and tension lay something else."

"Sounds like Hermione and Ron," Harry said before he could stop himself.

"I suspect the situations were very similar. Lena lorded it over Sirius for a few weeks, and he was too besotted to protest. Not even James and Remus could convince him it was anything other then true love."

Harry felt a surge of anger for his godfather. "She _used_ him," he spat.

"At first, yes. Lily and I couldn't help but wonder when she would get tired of the game. But then, I saw them together at a Quidditch match. Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, to be precise. It was freezing, and he had her practically smothered in his cloak while he was standing about like a great gentlemanly idiot, freezing his bum off. She reached up and kissed his cheek, and I've never forgotten the look on her face. This was no joke anymore. My sister had the ultimate prank played back on her — she fell for him."

Harry was still angry for his godfather's sake. "Did she release him?"

"From what, the spell?" Lauren laughed. "Oh Harry, Lena and are I aren't full-blooded Sirens — anything we do tends to dissolve very quickly. Why do you think our father wanted triplets? Only with the three of us could we have amassed anything like the power of a true Siren."

"But I've seen you — you can both do wandless magic-" Harry started, but Lauren quickly cut him off.

"Simple spells and charms. Nothing advanced. I assure you, we're really quite powerless. Sirius was in full use of his emotions within a day or two — but by then, things between them had already started to change." He saw an odd look cross Lauren's face. "She told him, of course. He said he didn't care how it had started. So, the two of them paired off. Your mother and father went on their first date together not long after. Which left myself and Remus" At this, she looked pensive.

"What about Peter?" Harry asked suddenly. "Where did he fit in all of this?"

"Peter Pettigrew?" Lauren's expression grew cold. "He was simply livid that things had come to such a state — yelled at Sirius that he couldn't believe he was letting some watery-tart interfere with their friendship." She snorted. "I never liked him, and the feeling was completely mutual. The boys always defended him, though — said he was their mate and we'd never understand."

"So, that's how it was — all through the rest of school. Your mother and father went on to be Head Boy and Girl — lucky thing too. I think they kept Lena and Sirius from being expelled when they were caught swimming naked in the hot springs beneath the school. And Remus and I, we turned to one another for affection." Her voice caught on Lupin's name and Harry wondered what _that _was all about. 

"As insulated as Hogwarts was, we couldn't be completely isolated from the chaos that was going on in our world. God knows Dumbledore and the staff did their best to make sure we students had as normal a time during our years here as they could. But every day, owls would swoop in bearing bad news of family members being killed or worse by Voldemort and his followers. In the spring of our sixth year, James' parents were murdered. Shortly afterwards, Remus' vanished without a trace. Peter's father had died early on in our second year, fortunately by natural causes. Only Sirius' family survived without a blemish, although in retrospect that in itself should have tipped us off." Her voice grew bitter, and Harry had to fight to keep himself from shouting in protest that Sirius was innocent. "After James' loss, he and Lily decided they would marry right after they left school — they didn't want to risk losing any time they might have together. They were working for Dumbledore, naturally, and James' connections at the Ministry were highly useful."

"What did my father do for the Ministry?" Harry asked eagerly. At last, at long last, some useful information about the parents he had never really known. "Was he an Auror?" Somehow, Harry had always suspected that he had been.

Lauren looked taken aback. "No one's ever told you?" she asked slowly. Harry shook his head. "He was an Unspeakable, Harry." She swallowed and then said "He worked for my uncle, in the Department of Mysteries."

***

A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot: Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑhä, Erinyes, Johnny V, holly, tima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm, sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDed, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, Starlite, baby norbert, Alyssa Potter, Majorca, Ennacie, H. Sanders, Lidder Deed, Lolli Potter, Green Eyed Knight, Kranberries, Curry Spice, chibbleworthy, gilaesther, Aimee Brueker, nightdweller-pr, CiA, Veritaserum, laney, BeachHottie707, littlemissvoldemort, Christy, Cesta Teristen, mystic Guardian , meara, Ishtar, twilight dreamer, Sabby, Stewart, tonyfo98, KaitlynElizabeth, Dirah20, Kaicy, brownafroduck, Briar, Scik, Sabby13, Phoenix220, kellylynn, and the prodigious Unregistered. 

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!


	19. Siren's Song Chapter 19

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

House: Schnoogle

Category: Drama/Romance

Rating: R for violence, language, and adult situations

Spoilers: All Four Books (SS, CoS, PoA and GoF) 

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated than just growing older.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena 

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested. 

This story was officially rendered AU as of June 21st, 2003 with the publishing of OoTP. JKR, I love you but you owe me some new tear ducts as they were sprained due to the weepfest you caused in Book Five.

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, I would like to add my most humble thanks – Bex for never doubting in me, and J.A.A. for refusing to allow me to cut a single corner. (you slavedriver, you) READ THEIR WORK. The fact that they aren't better known in fandom makes me _ill. _

You can find Bex's brilliant (I don't just say that because I'm her beta!) _Harry Potter and the Lost Prophecy_ at as well as her story _The Vampire Malfoy_ at . J.A.A.'s a literary genius – check out _Bill Weasley and the Sword of Nuada_ as well as _Four For the Road_ at . I assure you, you will not regret it!

__

A/N: This is the chapter that just never seemed to end. I started it in December and it just kept going and going and going in Energizer Bunny-like fashion. I finally divided it into two chapters so that a.) it wasn't so long, and b.)I could do two updates in a short time period. Hopefully it didn't disrupt the flow too badly. Enjoy!

***

__

"As insulated as Hogwarts was, we couldn't be completely isolated from the chaos that was going on in our world. God knows Dumbledore and the staff did their best to make sure we students had as normal a time during our years here as they could. But every day, owls would swoop in bearing bad news of family members being killed or worse by Voldemort and his followers. In the spring of our sixth year, James' parents were murdered. Shortly afterwards, Remus' vanished without a trace. Peter's father had died early on in our second year, fortunately by natural causes. Only Sirius' family survived without a blemish, although in retrospect that in itself should have tipped us off." Her voice grew bitter, and Harry had to fight to keep himself from shouting in protest that Sirius was innocent. "After James' loss, he and Lily decided they would marry right after they left school – they didn't want to risk losing any time they might have together. They were working for Dumbledore, naturally, and James' connections at the Ministry were highly useful."

"What did my father do for the Ministry?" Harry asked eagerly. At last, at long last, some useful information about the parents he had never really known. "Was he an Auror?" Somehow, Harry had always suspected that he had been.

Lauren looked taken aback. "No one's ever told you?" she asked slowly. Harry shook his head. "He was an Unspeakable, Harry." She swallowed and then said, "He worked for my uncle, in the Department of Mysteries."

***

"An Unspeakable?" Harry swallowed, feeling his mind whirl while he processed this thought. "You're sure?" he asked stupidly, regretting the words the moment they were out of his mouth.

"Quite sure. It was the ideal job for James. As an Unspeakable, he had limitless access to information and objects that the general public did not. He had always been fascinated with the idea of research into the more arcane fields of magick. In fact, your father had a deep love and respect for the history of the magical world, despite everything Binns did to squash it out of him. He became convinced that the key to defeating Voldemort was out there, hidden in some obscure witch or wizard's diary." Here Lauren's face softened, as what appeared to be a fond memory was stirred. "I remember him coming in from the library, sometimes at 3 or 4 in the morning, his face smudged with ink from the scrolls he'd been examining-"

"He sounds like Hermione," Harry said softly. This wasn't at all how he had always imagined his father. Somewhere in his mind, he had pictured his father to be more of a warrior, battling it out in hand-to-hand combat with the Death Eaters. He had dreamed him to be like the knights of old; fighting evil-doers and protecting the innocent. The idea of his father spending hours pouring over dusty tomes and ancient books just didn'tfit. "Hagrid told me that my parents both worked for Dumbledore, against Voldemort."

"They did. There's more involved in fighting against evil than merely lining up hundreds of Aurors against the bad guys and letting them have at it. Don't get me wrong, Aurors are vital soldiers to the battle but your parents, Harry, were the ones fighting the war." 

"But if he was spending all of his time doing research-" Harry began but she cut him off.

"You sound disappointed," Lauren said, and something in her stern expression and tone reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall. "Harry, what your father did was _vital_ to the cause. I can't even tell you everything he did, because as an Unspeakable his work was highly classified. I know that he uncovered the _Bracos Protetores_ spell, which created a system of safe houses all through the country that sheltered literally hundreds of people from the Death Eaters. I also know that James was the one who developed the _Signum Praetorius_ powder. Wizards used it to warn others along the Floo Network that the Death Eaters were on the march – it would send a bright blue flame up to the next twenty or so wizard houses on that grid of the network. God only knows how many villages he helped to protect with that warning system. He also helped to develop the _Occaeco_ potion, which gave children a sort of glamour spell of invisibility, which made it impossible for Voldemort to use the wizarding schools as any sort of bargaining chip. Even if he had managed to break through the wards that protected places like Hogwarts, he wouldn't have been able to find any students to torture and kill. There was a time when you weren't allowed to begin the school year without being vaccinated' with the_ Occaeco_ potion"

A sort of fierce pride had begun burning in Harry's heart. He'd always known that his father had done something great. Why else would Voldemort have bothered with him? The hated memory of Aunt Marge calling his father _"a wastrela no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger"_ now seemed almost laughable in its ignorance. How could she have understood what he was? How could any Muggle have understood?

From far away he heard Lauren saying, "Your father, Harry, saved _thousands of lives_ with his work. Just because he wasn't out in the field hunting Voldemort down on foot doesn't make him any less of a hero. Don't you _ever_ forget that." 

He'd been what Harry had suspected all along. _His father had been a hero. _And not just because he'd charged into a battle, but also because he'd been clever, wily and resourceful. He'd saved lives, and many lives at that. 

And yet something was nagging at the back of Harry's mind. He looked at Lauren, a horrible suspicion rising. "All those things that he developed to fight the Death Eatersthat's what your uncle passed on to Voldemort, wasn't it? The details of my father's work? Your uncle told his master what my father did, and the bastard wanted him out of the way before he found a way to destroy him permanently."

"That was part of it," Lauren said heavily. "But only part, Harry." She stopped her pacing and sat down next to him, close enough for Harry to smell the light scent of roses and musk that was her perfume. "Your father also uncovered a prophecy, Harry. A Seer's prediction, centuries old, that foretold of the rise of two evil regimes in our time."

"A prediction? Like a vision?" Harry asked, frowning. "You just told me how my father was an Unspeakable, and in the next breath you're telling me he believed in Divination?"

Lauren let out a soft whistle between her teeth that sounded faintly exasperated. "Harry, despite what that windbag Trelawney has done to the subject, Divination isn't a worthless field. Your father did quite a lot of research into the obscure aspects of our world, so it's natural that he would be interested in things such as mystic prophecies."

"If you say so." Harry was less than convinced. "What did this one say?"

"Namely, it foretold of the rise of two powerful dark wizards – obviously Grindelwald and Voldemort. It also predicted their downfalls, and gave details of what would ultimately destroy them. Your mother had just discovered that she was pregnant with you, and I remember how much your father dreaded telling her what he had found out. I don't remember it word for word, but the first part of the prophecy said that Grindelwald's defeat would come from _the hand of light and eyes of sky' _and something about a phoenix_. Bird of fire brings bitter justice'_, I think."

"Dumbledore," Harry breathed.

"Naturally. It also said _mercy is the bitter weapon, mercy poisons the darkness' soul.' _It all but spelled out how in Dumbledore's defeat of the dark, he would not forget that repentance was the ultimate act of retribution." She swallowed, and said softly, "You do know that Grindelwald was sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life after he was defeated, don't you?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "Dumbledore didn'tkill him?"

"No." Lauren shook her head. "Albus Dumbledore showed him mercy, in a matter of speaking. Placed the _Scelare_ curse on him." Her green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Which I suppose means that Grindelwald had managed to hold onto at least a shred of his soul. The _Scelare_ spell, Harry, ensured that Grindelwald was consumed night and day with guilt for his crimes. He spent the rest of his life remembering what he had done. To be specific, he was haunted by the ghosts of his victims for the rest of his life. He felt their pain, their fear, their rage at being ripped from this life." She swallowed. "I suppose some would call it mercy, that Dumbledore let him live. Of course, I doubt those people know just how powerful guilt can be, especially when it's used as a weapon against you."

It was a wrenching mental image: to be forced to relive the worst of your own actions - and the consequences - over and over again? He remembered suddenly that terrible sort of power that Dumbledore had radiated in Moody's office last year, and shivered. He knew his Headmaster was not a man to be trifled with, despite his usual pleasant and eccentric manner, but this information only further solidified that picture. Harry felt a slight tug of pity. 

Then he remembered – she said that the prophecy had spoken of Grindelwald's successor. "What – what did the prophecy say about Voldemort?" Harry whispered, suddenly feeling his hands shake. At last he would know why Voldemort had been trying to kill him since he was a year old. At last he would know why his parents had been murdered.

Lauren looked at the ground. "Lily never told me specifically. I overheard James talking about it to Sirius and Remus, though. Something like _The son of clay will rise from earth and battle the enigma' _and _Mother will weep for pride of stag, Mother's fall will save her yearling.'" She_ gave a deep shuddering breath, and looked up at him. "There were enough similarities within the text to alarm your father. Enough to alarm most parents, actually." 

Harry's eyes narrowed. Something in her tone struck him as very odd. "You don't sound very certain about that."

Lauren bit her lip. "In retrospect, I didn't give your father enough credit." She looked very pale as she stared at the ground again. "After all that had happened, it sounded a little too preordained."

Harry was glaring at her now. "You didn't believe him," he said slowly. "My father, I mean. You thought he was wrong."

"Harry, it's not that I didn't believe him," she started but he cut her off.

"But you _didn't."_

"I believed that he thought he had found _something._ But my sisters and I had been part of a supposed prophecy, and look how that turned out. My attitude was Well, obviously the moldy-oldies weren't quite high enough on fumes when they read that set of tea leaves!' So it was hard to take this one seriously. I mean," she twisted the edge of her robes in her hand, "who really thinks that their friends might just be the key to destroying the most evil wizard to ever walk the earth?" 

A scuffling noise made them both turn. "Get back!" they hissed at one another. Each scrambled to their feet, wands in hand, and attempted to push the other behind them. The end result was that Lauren and Harry ended up with their wands and arms locked and pointed at one another.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her and gave her his most menacing look. Or at the very least, he attempted to.

"Please, Harry – get behind me." The look on Lauren's face was all business, and he could tell that she was far from intimidated by his glares. He ignored this however, stubbornly keeping his wand trained directly on her. 

"You forget, Lauren – I was a _Tri-Wizard Champion."_ He had never boasted of this before, and the words sounded strange as they rang through the air. "Not a wizard to be trifled with." There was no way he was going to stand back idly and allow her to investigate – not when she had promised to tell him everything he wanted to know.

She sighed. "No one would ever mistake you for otherwise, Harry. Justpoint that away from me."

He nodded, his grip on his wand tightening. As one they moved towards the edge of the deck. It had gotten increasingly dark as they had talked, and dusky twilight had settled onto the village. They stood motionless, waiting. And when the sound came again, Harry shouted _"Stupefy!"_ while Lauren bellowed _"Expelliarmus!"_

A figure fell out of the bushes and onto the deck. Harry started to rush towards it, but Lauren caught him by the arm and forced him back. "No! Let me." She didn't wait for him to argue, instead she released him and moved towards the pile of dirty robes.

Harry muttered _"Lumos!"_ and directed the narrow beam of light at the figure on the deck. Lauren pulled back the robes. He heard her gasp, and moved quickly to her side. Then he stood in mute horror, trying to hold back the yell of shock that was threatening to escape from him.

He was staring down into the mangled face of"Mrs. Figg?"

Harry had often heard the phrase "living hell" and had idly wondered what it meant in real-life terms. No longer. Mrs. Figg was recognizable only by her hair and the general shape of her face. Her nose looked to be broken, a number of teeth were missing, and her lips were cracked with dried blood. And there was something horribly wrong with her eyesthey were closed, and the general area around them was so red that the skin appeared to be painted with blood. If Harry didn't know better he would think they were-

"Gauged out." Lauren hissed, laying a gentle hand against Mrs. Figg's cheek. "Her eyelids are sealed shut – _Cretulae_ charm. Cowardly bastards couldn't stand to see what they'd done to her." Her head jerked up. Harry thought she'd looked pale before, but that was positively tan by comparison to the greenish-white of her face now. "Go! Get Rene - better yet, Bill Weasley - if you can find him."

"Hurry," Mrs. Figg murmured indistinctly. He froze at the sound of her voice. It sounded rusty, like a gate that needed oil from overuse. Or like someone who had spent the last few months incessantly screaming. "Please.hurry."

Harry didn't hesitate, just turned and rushed inside the Hog's Head. He spotted Rene behind the bar, and all but ran to the burly man. "Rene, outside – Mrs. Figg! She just showed up, now, came out of the bushes! She looks" His voice trailed off as every head in the bar swiveled towards him. He had not realized how far his voice would carry until the noise within the bar shut quickly off, almost as if someone had flipped an invisible switch.

"Arabella Figg?" Rene asked, flipping up the door that was cut within the length of the bar and making his way towards the exit. "Cole – go fer help! Get Dumbledore!" The guitarist stumbled as he jumped off stage and made his way towards the fireplace. 

Harry followed Rene out of the bar, hearing shocked voices echoing Mrs. Figg's name behind him. "Bill Weasley hasn't returned, has he?" he asked. 

"Nah. Don't expect to see that one for a few weeks," Rene grunted in response, even as his brisk strides led him over to where Lauren knelt next to Mrs. Figg. "Gods, Arabella." He leaned down and gently picked her up in his arms, as though she weighed nothing at all. "What've they done to her?" he asked.

"By the looks of it, I'd say everything they could dream up," Lauren said bitterly. "Based on the scars and the um, evidence, I think they used _Caecare_, the Blindness curse along with the _Imperious_ and _Cruciatus_ curse on her - all at the same time. It made her think she was having her eyes ripped out. When in fact, she was the one who removed them." The normally flippant singer looked as though she might be ill. "I'm not an Auror, of course, but that's what it looks like. She needs to see a Medi-Wizard, Rene. Now."

Harry felt the bile rising in his own throat, and had to fight not to lose his lunch. Mrs. Figg, the Auror who had been his neighbor, had been tortured nearly to death. He had absolutely no doubt as to who was responsible. Only Voldemort himself could have come up with a sentence so despotic as combining two Unforgiveables with the Blindness Curse. 

"Gotta' get her to the Ministry," Rene grunted. 

"She's in no condition to Apparate," Lauren began but Rene cut her off. 

"I'll Floo her myself. Soon's we update Dumbledore – he'll be needin' to know about this." He shifted Mrs. Figg a bit and carried her inside, leaving Lauren and Harry staring after them.

A nasty silence hung in the air before Lauren said, "Rene's right, Dumbledore will need to know everything he can, and no doubt he'll want all of the students safely back at the castle, especially you."

Harry nodded mutely. When he could speak, his voice was croaky. "Why? Why do that to her?"

Lauren gave him a level look. "And then there's that unspoken question – why didn't they finish her off?"

Harry could only gape at her, stunned at how cool and composed she sounded as she referred to a woman's possible murder.

"Don't misunderstand me. That was awful, but I've seen Death Eater victims before and this was child's play. Arabella lived, and Harry – not all of them did." She reached inside her robes, fumbled with something, and then handed him something that glittered softly in the light from the bar.

It was the same blood-red stone pendant he had seen his mother wearing in that photo – the one of her with the Velange sisters. "What-" Harry began, but she cut him off. 

"I couldn't have messed this up any more if I'd had a script but I want to finish this. My third lesson was going to be Never let the sun go down on your anger.' Anger's a tricky thing – let it go unchecked too long, and it will turn to rage. And rage, Harry, is capable of destroying a person. Rage can turn a rational person into a monsterwe just saw evidence of that."

"I don't understand," he began but she cut him off again.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't tell you everything now, but believe me when I say I will – and hopefully soon. In the meantime," she closed his hand gently around the necklace, "hold onto this. It's yours by right."

"It was my mother's, wasn't it?" Harry asked slowly.

"Yes." Lauren looked strained. Without warning, she suddenly wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick, tight hug and a kiss on his forehead before she pulled away and Disapparated with a _pop!_

Harry was left staring at the emptiness where she had been. He slowly opened the clasp on the pendant, and looped it around his neck. It hung in the hollow of his throat, and while the gold chain felt cool on his skin, the stone itself felt strangelyhot. 

He was shaking, and it took him a minute to realize this. Without warning, he rushed to the bushes where Mrs. Figg had been lying and retched. The smell of her spilt blood filled his senses, and he felt his stomach tighten and heave again. He stayed that way for some time, doubled over and trying to fight against what he felt in his gut, indeed in his very soul. Empty at last, he sat back against the wall of the pub, watching as the trees spun in dizzying circles above him.

This was worse, far worse, than how he had felt over Cedric's death. Cedric had died and that had been a tragedy. However, Cedric's death, while horrible, had been quick, neat and painless. This was a hundred thousand times more terrible. This was cold, and calculated and had an aura of overpowering evil. It reeked of hatred, and rage, and a complete lack of anything resembling human emotion. Harry recognized it, because he had felt something similar this year, had been feeling it ever since Cedric had died. Anger over his passing had turned to rage. Anger over discovering the truth about his godmother had turned to rage. Anger towards Hermione for keeping the truth from him had turned to rage 

The true nature of his emotions, and the potential consequences of them hit hard. He remembered another dark-haired prefect who had allowed his anger to turn into rage. That boy had committed his first murder at age 16, just a year older than Harry was now. That boy had grown into a man who had murdered hundreds, possibly thousands of people. That boy had been responsible for the carnage Harry had witnessed tonight. 

That boy was working to destroy everything that he, Harry, held dear.

__

"Never let the sun go down on your anger.' Anger's a tricky thing – let it go unchecked too long, and it will turn to rage. And rage, Harry, is capable of destroying a person."

The memory of how he had lashed out at Sirius, Hermione and Lena flooded back to him, and he realized just how dangerously easy it would be to follow down the same path as Riddle. _"There are strange likenesses between us," _Riddle had said. 

"You're wrong," Harry murmured. "You never realized that what you did was wrong, or if you did you just didn't give a damn. There _are_ such things as good and evil. There's more to power then just seeking it out." He stood up shakily as he muttered, "I'm going to prove it."

***

A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot: Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little*, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, §ämäÑthä, Erinyes, Johnny V, hotima, azriona,Phenomonous, canadian chick, unregistered2, QuidBrm, sara ane, Zelda, SweetBttrfly1, MarchoftheDed, Albus Dumbledore III, Lori McCloud of Clan McCloud, Gobbling Fire, Lilia, Starlite, baby norbert, Alyssa Potter, Majorca, Ennacie, H. Sanders, Lidder Deed, Lolli Potter, Green Eyed Knight, Kranberries, Curry Spice, chibbleworthy, gilaesther, Aimee Brueker, nightdweller-pr, CiA, Veritaserum, laney, BeachHottie707, littlemissvoldemort, Christy, Cesta Teristen, mystic Guardian , meara, Ishtar, twilight dreamer, Sabby, Stewart, tonyfo98, KaitlynElizabeth, Dirah20, Kaicy, brownafroduck, Briar, Scik, Sabby13, Phoenix220, kellylynn, NightSpear, Alia West, X13, Esperanza, l88er-az, Lions Blood, everpresent, Gshans, Erin, Airhead, kirsti116, gadriam, Jaya, mione8, siriuslyinlove, heido-san, Leylox, kdalemama, madhuri, skirt, tamela, liliko, technomad, Incognito, and the prodigious Unregistered.

Remember, reviews equal warm fuzzy feelings, equals faster writing - flames make me a better writer - both are welcomed!

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	20. Siren's Song Chapter 20

Title: Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Author: jords

Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year and discovers that labels shouldn't be used for anything with a brain, those who use the Dark Arts aren't necessarily the bad guys, and that growing up is a lot more complicated than just growing older.

Spoilers: _SS, CoS, PoA and GoF_

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Lauren and Lena Velange belong to me, although they'll sing for anyone who's interested.

Ships: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Bill/Lauren, Sirius/Lena

(some Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione)

Dedicated to Barb, whose courage to share her talent inspired me to attempt a stroll in her shoes. (I can only imitate the master) And of course to the genius that is J.K. Rowling, in whose brilliant world I was lucky enough to play. To my beta-readers, Kestral, Elliott, J.A.A., Elizabeth Culmer, and Becky - my eternal thanks and praise.

* * *

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He was shaking, and it took him a minute to realize this fact. Without warning, he rushed to the bushes where Mrs. Figg had been lying and retched. The smell of her spilt blood filled his senses, and he felt his stomach tighten and heave again. He stayed that way for some time, trying to fight against what he felt in his gut, indeed in his very soul. Empty at last, he sat back against the wall of the pub, watching as the trees above spun in dizzying circles above him.

This was worse, far worse, than how he had felt over Cedric's death. Cedric had died and that had been a tragedy. However, Cedric's death, while horrible, had been quick, neat and painless. This was a hundred thousand times more terrible. This was cold, and calculated and had an aura of overpowering evil. It reeked of hatred, and rage, and a complete lack of anything resembling human emotion. Harry recognized it, because he had felt something similar this year, had been feeling it ever since Cedric had died. Anger over his passing had turned to rage. Anger over discovering the truth about his godmother had turned to rage. Anger towards Hermione for keeping the truth from him had turned to rage

The true nature of his emotions, and the potential consequences of them hit hard. He remembered another dark-haired prefect who had allowed his anger to turn into rage. That boy had committed his first murder at age 16, just a year older than Harry was now. That boy had grown into a man who had murdered countless hundreds, possibly thousands. That boy had been responsible for the carnage Harry had witnessed tonight.

That boy was working to destroy everything that he, Harry, held dear.

"Never let the sun go down on your anger.' Anger's a tricky thing – let it go unchecked too long, and it will turn to rage. And rage, Harry, is capable of destroying a person."

The memory of how he had lashed out at Sirius, Hermione and Lena flooded back to him, and he realized just how dangerously easy it would be to follow down the same path as Riddle.

"There are strange likenesses between us," Riddle had said.

"You're wrong," Harry murmured. "You never realized that what you did was wrong, or if you did you just didn't give a damn. There are such things as good and evil. There's more to power then just seeking it out." He stood up shakily as he muttered, "I'm going to prove it."

* * *

__

Lauren was right, Harry thought to himself grimly as he followed a cluster of Ravenclaw girls across the lawn. Within moments of Rene's Floo powder exit, Dumbledore had sent word that all Hogwarts students were to immediately return to the safety of the school. Harry's journey through Hogsmeade and back up to the castle was a disorienting blur of black cloaks, pale faces, and anxious voices. It reminded him of how it had been his second year, when the entire school had been on edge as student after student had been Petrified by Salazar Slytherin's Basilisk. He passed Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls in the entrance, and was both surprised and gratified to see that even they appeared to be nervous.

When he entered the Great Hall at last, it took him only seconds to catch sight of Hermione, Ron and Ginny talking earnestly amongst themselves. Ginny looked younger, smaller, and more fragile than he remembered. Hermione appeared to be trying to calm the younger girl, while Ron looked miserable. As soon as Ginny spied Harry however, her entire face lit up. She raced over to his side, threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. "Oh, Harry, we've been so worried. I heard you were there when Mrs. Figg showed up, and there have been the wildest rumours-"

Harry cut her off, holding her tightly even as he set her back on her feet. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you worry." He caught her hands in his, and said quietly "Ginny, I've been an utter, utter prat. Prat squared, topped of with a healthy dollop of git and weasel-faced tosser" He would have continued on in this vein but the look on her face made him stop abruptly.

He'd been cold since they'd found Mrs. Figg. It was the kind of frigid and merciless cold that he associated with dungeons, darkness and the hooded nameless creatures that haunted his dreams. But as he leaned down and brushed Ginny's lips with his own the cold fell away, until all he felt was the warmth of the room and her arms around him. He would have loved to deepen the kiss, but not here, not now – not with hundred of students around them. He heard Lauren's voice ringing through his head yet again_. Never let the sun go down on your anger.' _He wouldn't – not ever again.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. "I'm so sorry. I never want to fight like that again. Ever."

"Harry?" Ginny asked in a bewildered voice. "Are youall right?"

"I am now, or I will be, as soon as you tell me that I'm forgiven," he suddenly pulled away and grinned down at her. "Humility is one thing, but how many ways does a bloke have to say I'm sorry?' You're a tough one to please, Miss Weasley."

Her dark eyes searched his face, before a broad smile crossed her features. "Anyone mentioned lately that you may very well be mad?"

"Just you." Harry kissed her hand before he held it tightly in his own. He hadn't realized how nervous he was that Ginny might not accept his apology until he recognized the palpable feeling of relief spreading through his veins.

Unbidden, he heard Lauren's voice again. _"Lesson number two, Harry, is to treasure family above all else."_ And he felt a painful tug at his heart, and something very like toshame.

He'd lied to Lauren when he'd said he didn't have a family. Hermione and Ron were more than his closest friends and confidantes; they were the two most important people in his life. And Ginny, well, her role in his life was confusing (was she his girlfriend? It seemed such an odd thing for him to have) but nonetheless equally important.

He looked up to see Ron and Hermione watching them. Ron's expression was carefully neutral. Hermione's was almost identical but for the apprehension in her eyes.

It hurt to breathe for a moment as he faced them. Would they be as understanding as Ginny? He held tightly onto Ginny's hand as he approached them. "Listen, I know things have been kind of, well, tense lately," Harry began awkwardly. "Between us, I mean."

Hermione flushed, but looked him in the eye. "Yes, you could say that."

He swallowed. "Well, I just wanted to say, I'm sorry."

Ron looked at Hermione then, his expression still unreadable. "You had something you wanted to tell Harry?" he said gently.

"Yes, well, HarryI'm sorry too. I know you felt betrayed by what I did, and I'm so sorry I hurt you." Her eyes were very bright. "And I hate it that we're not talking."

"Yeah, well." Harry looked down at Ginny, who was beaming up at him. "Do you think we could, you know, put that behind us?"

Hermione smiled. "I'd like that," she said, a bit shyly.

Ron just rolled his eyes. "Oh, hug or whatever already. I'm dying to end the game of stilted phrases already. Plus I want to know what Harry saw at the Hog's Head."

"Ron!" Hermione turned to glare at him. "This is serious."

"So is this." Without warning, Harry pulled Hermione into a hug, grinning over her shoulder at Ron. "I know we don't hug, so what now?"

He was stunned to watch Ron's face crumble, and the next thing he knew he was firmly sandwiched between Ron and Hermione. Ginny added to the fray, and the four of them stood with their arms wrapped tightly around one another.

And Harry felt the cold recede completely from his heart, mind and body.

* * *

"And then Rene Apparated Mrs. Figg away," Harry said, feeling the warmth of the hearth fire on his skin, but thinking how it fell short of the warmth that his friends gave him.

"Wait, your godmother and her sister are both Sirens?" Ron asked incredulously. He looked at Hermione. "How much of this did you know?"

She looked at Harry as she nervously answered him, "Well, all of it actually," she muttered. Her brown eyes searched Harry's face. "What else did she tell you?"

"That my father was an Unspeakable. She told me what he did, the reason that Voldemort come after him." For some reason, Harry didn't feel comfortable telling them about the prophecy that Lauren had mentioned. He didn't care if Hermione knew, but the idea that his defeat of Voldemort had been predicted and put into motion years before his birth made him more than a little uncomfortable.

"Your father was an Unspeakable?" Ron looked stunned. "Harry, that's, well that's just"

"Cool," Ginny finished for him. "I mean, no one really knows what they do. They just sort of show up and solve problems."

Hermione had not taken her eyes off Harry. He had a sneaking suspicion that she knew about everything his father had done. "Anything else?" she asked. "Did she say what your mother did?"

"She was going to tell me more, but then Mrs. Figg turned up." Harry said heavily. He looked at her sideways, suddenly curious. "Why, do you know what my mother did?"

"No," Hermione said softly. "She didn't say, and I didn't ask. I thought that was something you should hear first." She swallowed, then lowered her head to study her plate.

"Poor Mrs. Figg," Ginny said softly into silence that surrounded them, despite the noise of the tables in the Hall. "I can't imagine doing, you know, what she did. Surviving what she went through." She shivered and Harry wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. He looked at Ron.

"There's no way they can recover her sight, is there?" he asked quietly.

"I don't think so," Ron said, looking a bit ill. "I mean, Medi-Mages can only do so much. She can have magical eyes now, though, like Moody's."

This wasn't a terribly comforting thought. "But she'll never have her own eyes back?"

"No." Hermione said softly. "And there's no way to magically erase what she went through emotionally."

Ginny had begun poking at her chicken almost viciously. When she realized all three of them were staring at her, she gave a wane smile. "I was just thinking about how much I hate them. Voldemort and his minions, I mean. How could they do that to a defenseless woman?"

"She wasn't exactly defenseless." Ron said somberly. "To be honest, she was a threat. A threat they're too cowardly to fight, but not too cowardly to torture, just to prove how powerful they are." He shook his head and added, "I just don't understand them. What was the point? To prove how horrible they are? Don't they think we know?"

"Because it's their idea of fun." Harry said firmly, remembering when Mr. Weasley had said the same about the Death Eaters and their treatment of the Roberts family at the World Cup. _And because they never learned about controlling their rage._

He felt a pair of eyes on him, and looked up to see Professor Velange watching him intently from the Head Table. He waited for the rush of resentment, but it didn't come. Disappointment, to be sure, but the raging tide of anger that he had begun to associate with his godmother's presence was absent.

He was just sorry it had taken seeing his former babysitter near death to force him to re-sort his priorities.

* * *

Despite his newfound calm over the situation with Professor Velange, Harry found himself avoiding her. The pain of her leaving him to the Dursleys had lessened, but he feared that rushing in and confronting her on the situation would be like ripping the scab off a partially healed wound.

Caught up in his very real and complicated life, Harry had managed to forget all about his run-in with Trelawney, and the Tarot card's prediction. His bubble was quickly burst Monday morning when Professor McGonagall stopped by the Gryffindor Table over breakfast. She looked as though someone had just spiked her morning porridge with vomit-flavoured Bertie Bott's Beans.

She did not bring welcome news. "You are excused from your morning sessions today, Mr. Potter. Madam Viccarro from the Ministry is here to meet with you." As those "morning sessions" included Transfiguration, Harry felt he knew what was causing McGonagall to look so displeased.

Harry, who would have welcomed a triple session of Potions over meeting with the mysterious Madam Viccarro, opened his mouth to protest.

He needn't have bothered.

"But Professor McGonagall," Hermione spoke up quickly. "Today was the day you were testing us on Compound Switching Spells." Harry never thought he would have chosen one of McGonagall's tests over, well, anything. But given the choice between making a chair develop cat-like traits, and Madam Viccarro, he'd take the chair and be thankful for it. Even if he had yet to make a chair curl up and purr like a contended kitten.

McGonagall's already thin mouth became practically invisible as she set her jaw and looked most irritable. "I am aware of the unfortunate timing, Miss Granger, but Madam Viccarro's time is extremely valuable. We do not know when she will be available to visit Hogwarts again in the foreseeable future. Mr. Potter will simply have to make up his exam with me later this afternoon." She jerked her chin in the direction of the door. "Move along then, Potter. Madam Viccarro is waiting for you in the Headmaster's office."

Harry sighed, and picked up his bookbag. Ron, however, grinned at McGonagall and asked "How is it the Ministry's expert on Divination can't even predict her own schedule?"

"That is _enough,_ Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said sternly, although now she looked as though she were trying to hide a smile of her own.

Between Ginny's sympathetic look, Ron's suppressed laughter and Hermione's tutting under her breath about frauds, Harry was almost glad to escape from the table. Almostbefore he remembered that he was meeting with a woman who would no doubt want him to relive that memory of seeing the Dementors abandon Azkaban. His pace matched that of a man making his way to his own execution as he slouched out towards the door.

"Oi! Potter! Hold up!" Malfoy's voice rang out behind him, and Harry turned to give his Potions' partner an annoyed look.

"I'm kind of late for a meeting in Dumbledore's office, Malfoy." Harry said shortly. "So make it quick."

"Gladly," Malfoy shot back. "I'd hate to do anything that would prevent you from rapidly being elsewhere."

They glared at one another for a long moment. Their uneasy détente of a few weeks ago had ended by silent agreement. Harry wondered now how he had ever thought it possible that the two of them would get along. Finally tiring of the glower-fest, he said "You're the one who wanted to talk to me, Malfoy. Sotalk already."

"Ooh, look at Potter! Let me guess, Weasley lent you _The Idiot's Guide to Tough-Guy Talk? _If you're quite done with being an annoying prat, I wanted to let you know that Snape said that he was releasing me from working with you after-hours until after the holidays."

__

That was odd, Harry thought. "Why?" he asked aloud.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "How should I know? And to be honest, I was hardly pushing him for an answer. I just said Thank you, sir' and continued on my merry way."

Harry's mind was racing. Snape knew that Malfoy had been with him in the forest. Could it be that Snape had changed his mind about any chance they had to lure Malfoy away from his father? No, that didn't seem possible. Snape had been insistent that Malfoy could yet be turned away from his father's way of thinking. It didn't make sense.

Unless, of course, Snape wanted them away from the dungeon for other reasons

"Anyway, thought I'd give you fair warning just in case you opted to blow the dungeon up again and were waiting on me to bail your arse out tonight." Draco smirked and pressed past him. "Unless of course you decided to show some actual hormones and chose to snog the Weasley brat all night-"

"Silencio!" Harry said, not thinking to look and see who was around. "I think I liked you better when you were gawping in fear in the forest," he interjected.

Draco mouthed soundlessly at him, his expression furious.

"Yep, just like that." Harry grinned.

* * *

The gargoyle at the base of the stairs that led to Dumbledore's office leered down at him, even as Harry inwardly swore. McGonagall hadn't told him the password to get inside Dumbledore's office. "Right," Harry said, squaring his shoulders. "Cockroach Cluster." Nothing. "Fizzing Whizbees. Drooble's Best Blowing Gum."

Still nothing. "Lemon Drop. Sherbert Lemon. Licorice Wand. Chocolate Frogs." This was starting to get ridiculous. At this rate he'd be in sixth year before he guessed the password. "Canary Creams!" he snapped, not really expecting a reaction.

He was wrong. The statue of the gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. "Canary Creams?" Harry gasped. "You must be joking!"

"Hardly, Mr. Potter," said an amused voice from just inside the opening that the gargoyle had revealed in the wall. The sound was so unexpected that he gave a slight jump of surprise. "Misters Fred and George Weasley were kind enough to send me a few of their, er, inventions, over the summer. I found their Canary Creams to be quite the hit at the staff meetings." Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling in a way that Harry had not seen in some time. He found himself returning the Headmaster's smile, quite relieved to see Dumbledore in such good sprits. Lately, it seemed, Dumbledore had looked older and wearier then ever, and Harry missed this more familiar-looking Albus Dumbledore.

"It would seem that you took matters into your own hands in order to see Madam Viccarro. Excellent, she's waiting in my office." Dumbledore waved a hand towards the moving spiral stone staircase that led to his chambers. "After you, Harry."

Entering Dumbledore's officer through the heavily polished oak door, Harry received his third shock of the morning. He had expected Madam Viccarro to resemble Professor Trelawney, with her numerous beaded necklaces, heavy glasses and spooky manner. Instead he found himself face to face with a pretty witch in bright green robes who appeared to be roughly the same age as Sirius and Remus Lupin. Her long dark hair was twisted up into a complicated looking knot at the back of her head, and her bright blue eyes were twinkling in much the same manner as Dumbledore's. "A pleasure, Mr. Potter," she said, taking his hand in her own.

He began to shake hers in return, but then realized that she was not holding his hand in the traditional greeting, but had turned it over in her own to study his palm. "I already know, I have a very short life line," he said dully, knowing what she was looking for.

Her gaze was rather intense as it shifted from his palm to his face. "Quite the contrary to what I was going to say, Mr. Potter. Your life-line does indeed curve off to the side, and many would mistake it for being short. But an experienced Diviner should not miss the fact that it only pauses for a moment before arching off into your hand and almost clear around to the front. Here, do you see it?" She tapped the spot with finger. Unlike Rita Skeeter's well-polished talons, Viccarro's nails were neatly filed and painted a clear shell pink. "I'm afraid that whoever told you that your life line was short was mistaken. In fact, it's quite lengthyit just follows a most unusual route."

Harry found he had nothing to say to this, so he merely nodded. "Have a seat, Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry sat.

Madam Viccarro's eyes were resting on his scar now. He was used to people studying the famous souvenir of his first meeting with Voldemort by now, but nonetheless, he'd never found the experience to be a comfortable one. And this woman was studying it with a narrow focus that made his skin crawl. "Most unusual," she murmured, before reaching to lift his sleeve and examine the long red scar on his arm. Her mouth pursed slightly as she tilted his hand, moving it slightly to get a better look. After a few moments, she slid his sleeve back into place, returning her hands to her lap. "Well, Albus, while I'll grant you that these scars may provide Harry with some sort of link to Voldemort, it is unlikely that they would completely explain Harry's visions." She turned her attention back to Harry, who had been staring at her since her casual use of Voldemort's name. "The Headmaster has been telling me of your unusual experiences this year, Harry. I'd like to hear of them in your own words, if you don't mind."

This was exactly what he'd been dreading. "Not much to tell, really." Harry felt his face getting red as Dumbledore sank into a chair opposite from him, and said nothing. "I was in Hogsmeade, and all of a sudden I felt very cold. And then, I saw them. Saw Azkaban, saw the prisoners" his throat tightened as he remembered the screams he had heard, and knew that he heard the last moments of prisoners who were not supporters of Voldemort and his supporters.

He looked up to see Dumbledore and Viccarro watching him closely. "Um, that's it."

Madam Viccarro nodded, and looked at Dumbledore. "You know, Albus, I could really go for a cup of tea. Darjeeling, perhaps." Her meaning was all too obvious – she wanted to speak to Harry alone.

Dumbledore smiled as he rose. "Oh, that does sound delightful. Let me go see what I can do." He gave Harry an encouraging smile as he left, and Harry could have sworn he was humming.

Madam Viccarro didn't say anything for several minutes. Instead she stood and went to the windows. "I had almost forgotten how beautiful the grounds were," she said at last. "That Quidditch field is truly spectacular." She turned to look at Harry. "I understand you're a Seeker? Youngest in a century to play here at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded mutely. "Oh, you're so lucky to be able to compete!" Viccarro continued. "I was never great shakes at flying myself. Which turned out to be good, as I was an excellent tutor for the members of the team who needed some, er, extra help." She gave a slight shake of her head, and returned to her seat.

"When you saw the Dementors in your vision, how did you feel?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"I told you," Harry muttered. "I felt cold."

"No – that is what you felt of the outside world pushing intell me what you felt," she said, a little more insistently.

"Cold. I felt, wellwhen was the last time you went up against a Dementor?" Harry asked harshly.

"You felt despair." Her words were so quiet he could scarcely hear them. "You felt the passing of life, and what the absence of hope can do."

He could only stare at her.

"You don't trust me, do you Harry?" Her blue-eyed gaze was very kind as she said these words.

Harry shook his head. "It's not that I don't trust you," he muttered. "I just don't like what's been happening to me."

"Ah, yes. The dreams, the visions, the disturbing glimpses of a madman set on destroying everything we hold dear," Viccarro nodded. "Well then, you're really not going to like what I have to say next." She sat back and regarded him for a moment, before she continued. "Young as you are Harry, you are our best weapon in the fight against Voldemort and his forces. You have faced him now four times – and each time you have survived. No other warrior still living can claim that. As a result, your subconscious has been forced to accept what your conscious mind cannot fully grasp. It has stepped in to do what you feel you cannot."

"Iwhat?" Harry started, but she cut him off.

"The more you try and resist what is so obviously your destiny, the more your inner voice will war with you as it rises to do what it knows must be done." Her eyes narrowed. "I advise you to grow up, Harry. Suck it up, accept your gift as well as your fate, and help us fight back."

"What?" Harry asked again, staring at her. Her attitude was so unexpected that he was certain he had misheard her.

"You heard me. Enough of the whining and why me's'? You have been given a rare gift, boy, one that many wizards would give their wand arms for, and one that could make a real difference in this war. You're the Boy Who Lived, not the Boy Who Threw Himself a Pity Party and Wallowed in his own Sorrows!" Her expression reminded him strongly of Professor McGonagall's as she continued, "I know what happened last year, Harry, and I know you're scared. Congratulations, we all are. My question to you is, what do you intend to do about it?"

Harry couldn't remember ever being spoken to in such a manner since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. "You don't know what you're talking about!" he snarled, getting to his feet and moving towards the door. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Don't I? I know you've had nightmares you don't feel you can share with your friends, and visions of things that scare you more then you care to admit, not even to the Headmaster. I know you're trying to act as though everything is just fine and dandy while what you want to do is scream ENOUGH!'" He started to interrupt but again she cut him off. "I know that you think you are responsible for that boy's death last year, and you're terrified that you may be placing your friends in danger merely through your own existence and their connection to you." Her voice lowered and she said, "And there are times you wish you'd never come to Hogwartsbecause if you hadn't then maybe everything would be different."

That made him stop dead in his tracks. He turned to face her, and said thickly. "How did you-"

Viccarro gave him a sad smile. "It's written all over you – I'd have to have been blind not to see it. It's the pain only another Seer can recognize. The pain of seeing what might come, what will comeand what we must work to prevent from ever coming to pass. I can help you, Harry – help you understand what's going on around you, help you learn to control your very precious gift – but only if you are honest with yourself." The blue eyes were more piercing than daggers. "Now, I want you to tell me everything."

Harry blinked. "Everything?"

"Well, perhaps you can skip over the fact that you secretly cheer for the Caerphilly Catapaults over the Cannons." Her eyes twinkled, and again Harry was reminded of Dumbledore.

Harry took a deep breath, and began.

"The voiceit was terrible," Harry said dully. "Like a snakebut I don't think it was Voldemort." He had just finished telling of the dream he had, the dream of being in his mother's houseand the blood he had seen.

"No, that dream sounds more like a warning, and I doubt he'd be telegraphing defence ideas for you to use," Madam Viccarro's matter of fact voice sliced through his thoughts. She stood so suddenly that Harry flinched. She paced by the large windows for a few moments and then asked, "Are you afraid of him?"

"Who wouldn't be?" Harry retorted.

"No, you misunderstand me – do you fear him- Voldemort the man - or do you fear what he is, what he has become – Voldemort, the Dark Lord of Magicks?"

Harry frowned. "I don't understand the difference."

"No," she said thoughtfully. "I don't suppose you would." She turned from the window and said swiftly, "You are still so young, and it is cruel for me to expect you to grasp the ramblings of a Seer." Madam Viccarro seemed deep in thought for a moment. "I wonderwould you understand if I were to show you?"

His apprehension must have shown in his eyes, for she paused to give him a reassuring smile. "You said you didn't dislike me, but do you trust me?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly. He did, although he was uncertain as to why. She spoke to him as though she already knew what he might say, and without trying, her manner was far spookier than Trelawney could ever have hoped for. Still, he knew she was only trying to help him.

Without realizing what he was doing, his hand sought hers, and the moment they made contact Harry felt as though he had been sucked underneath a wave of frigid water

__

He was walking through the streets of Hogsmeade and every store window was shuttered. The normally bustling village was as quiet as a graveyard, and the gloom was mirrored by the grey that surrounded him: the slate-coloured sky, the hazy cloying fogthe stony cobbled roads. It was as though all life had been removed from the town, and only the shades of what had been remained

The scene swirled and he found himself within the walls of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. However, it was a Hogwarts the likes of which he had never seen: the four long house tables had been replaced by two shorter ones. Every student wore the familiar black robes, but these were topped with black hoods that obscured the faces beneath them. The school seal that was normally displayed prominently behind the chair of the Headmaster was conspicuously absent. In its place a large snake was carved into the wall, and after a long moment Harry recognized it as an ornate depiction of the Death Eaters' symbol

More visions swirled before his eyes, each bringing fresh horrors to his mind: The Daily Prophet, speaking of sweeping reforms "To fully bring the Muggle plague under control". The daily executions of those seen as "dangerous subversives". The expulsion of Muggle-borns from the wizarding world. The fear, the angerIt was like a vise choking him. And above it all, he heard the familiar bone-chilling laughter

Faces flashed before him: Mr. Weasley, looking 100 years older, and thinner than Sirius had ever been. Seamus Finnegan, looking bloody and battered. Bill Weasley, his hand gone, his face disfigured. Dean Thomas, dead. Hermione, dead. Ron, dead. Sirius, dead. Ginny, dead. The laughter had turned to screams, and it took him a long moment to recognize the voice behind the cries

Harry raised his head from the floor of Dumbledore's office, and felt tears upon his cheeks. He was dizzy, and as weak as if he had just woken up with a fever. But the sickness he felt was deeper than physical – it was in his heart and mind. He was sick with the images he had witnessed, and of the world he had seen.

It was a world he had dreaded from the first moment he had seen the tall thin figure rise from that cauldron two years ago: a universe in which Voldemort had won.

Madam Viccarro was sitting next to him on the ground, and the look in her eyes was one of both pity and sorrow. "Now do you understand?" she asked softly.

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A/N: Many thanks to all that have reviewed at Schnoogle.com and FF.net so far - your encouragement and critiques mean a lot: Alpha Wolf, Lily Vance, Erised12, Firecracker, Venus4280, Elizabeth Culmer, driver8, lilahp, Luigi, Vying Quill, StuFFedTIger, Dark Phoenix8987, ADJ, SeaS, Princess Fiona, ninnoc, little, padfoot1979, Liz, Morwen Langan, Opaleye, Maria1314, sk8reagle, skirt, WerghofTur, ALEX, EliCa, Beci, Princess Kattera, floramorada, Papercut, Alison, Tituba, Summer Thyme, aldalindil, Cathy, strangelypotty, amalthea, Kyle, makulit, Tamz, Duke, Tabitha B. Potter, Victoria Weaver, Jesse, Piper D, Elektra, Anna Black, aladar,

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